Do You Believe In Magic
by Owlix
Summary: Iris "Rissie" Potter was born the twin sister of Harry Potter; however, she was also born a Squib. After Bill and Fleur's wedding, she was taken to Lord Voldemort to be kept hostage. When all hope seemed lost, a mysterious figure transported her to Forks, WA. Who will she meet there, and how will this effect the Wizarding World as we know it? ON TEMPORARY HIATUS! SORRY!
1. Prologue: Welcome to My Life

**Prologue: ****Welcome to My Life**

Do you know what the most embarrassing feeling in the world is?

It's not getting rejected by your crush, nor is it getting pranked in front of a large group of people. It's not knowing your family's showing your new boyfriend pictures of you as a cute little baby or hearing your parents say "I love you" in front of your friends.

It's knowing that you're broken in some way and that nothing you do will ever fix it. It's seeing how little you really matter to others because you simply can't do something you were supposedly born to do. It's the looks of pity and poorly-hidden scorn and disappointment when you try to be something everyone knows you're not.

That was what I had to deal with ever since I found my parents were a witch and a wizard. Logically, I should've been a witch as well, just like my twin brother Harry was a wizard, but for some reason, I'd never shown any inclination for magic. Weird things never happened to me; I never mysteriously ended up on the school roof or turned my teacher's wig blue or made things disappear. That all happened to Harry, not me.

During Harry's second year at Hogwarts, he found out the name for people like me – Squibs. Apparently, sometimes a magical family will give birth to a child that didn't have any magic. It was considered a great embarrassment for a family to produce a Squib; after Squibs reach a certain age and show no signs of magic, the Ministry stop recording anything concerning them, as if they aren't worth the Ministry's time and attention. I cried myself to sleep the night Harry sent me that letter, knowing the world that had accepted him with open arms would never see me as anything of worth.

While Harry was at Hogwarts, I spent my time at Stonewall High, being teased for my quietness, my red hair, my freckles, and especially my hearing aids. St. Grogory's Primary School had mandated that Aunt Petunia get me hearing aids after the school nurse became aware that I had a very hard time hearing what the teacher was saying. She'd been forced to get me a new pair every year by school mandate, but she always insisted on getting me the cheapest ones she could find so they always looked clunky and often had problems with feedback and other volume issues.

The only friend I had at Stonewall High was a boy named Sean Harris, who had hearing problems like me. The main difference between us was the fact that his hearing was completely gone in both ears, while mine was only gone in my left ear and partially gone in my right ear. Despite the fact that I was only mostly deaf, he continued to give me the support and love that he knew I desperately needed. He taught me sign language and introduced me to other deaf people, including an Art teacher who noticed my talent for drawing. Through his lessons, I soon began to love the nuances of drawing, knowing that my deafness had no affect on how good I was at it. My favourite subjects were people, especially students from Stonewall High during social recess hours. They all looked so happy and carefree, which was something I never was before; I felt I had to save those precious, light-hearted moments that no one seems to care about anymore.

While I was living my life in the Muggle world, Harry's letters kept me up-to-date on the magical world. Harry made sure I had an eagle's-eye view of Hogwarts and his adventures, letting me know that he was still alive and I wasn't all alone. Often, Harry's letters were the only thing keeping me sane; my home-life was even more hellish than before now that I was the only twin left. Knowing someone still loved me made me feel better than any healing salve.

Outside of my relationship with Harry, I did have a little contact with the magical world. I spent every summer with the Weasleys, learning to love them as my own magical family. They were absolutely fantastic to me - letting me eat as much as I wanted, helping me with chores, teaching me to fly, and helping me understand the world I'd been born into. They even took me to my first Quidditch game: the 422nd Quidditch World Cup, which featured Ireland vs. Bulgaria. I have to admit that I was utterly blown away by the game and fell in love with it from the first whistle.

I went to Hogwarts for the first time on the day Lord Voldemort returned from the grave. While I was mystified by the whole magical experience of the Triwizard Tournament, the atmosphere was destroyed by the death of Cedric Diggory, a kind, charming boy I'd only said a handful of words to at the Quidditch World Cup, and the discovery that the man Harry had thought was his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was actually a follower of Voldemort in disguise. Thanks to that chameleon Barty Crouch, Jr., Harry and I had been horribly traumatized and almost killed; the look in Professor Dumbledore's eyes when he came into Crouch's office had been positively murderous. I'd refused to leave Harry's side that night, saying I wouldn't be likely to let him out of my sight again.

I went to Grimmauld Place that summer and Christmas, getting to know the two men who had been chosen as godfathers to Harry and me. Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, was brave, loyal, and full of a brilliant sense of humour, but he was also impulsive, brooding, and refused to think of Harry as a child; he likely saw Harry more as our dad than as a fifteen-year-old boy suffering from too much responsibility and, possibly, PTSD. Remus Lupin, my godfather, was kind, warm, and good-natured, but he was also self-destructive, unwilling to fight for self-respect, and too forgiving for his own good; whenever someone abused him based off of the fact that he was a werewolf, he just shrugged it off as an unfortunate fact of life, forgave whoever hurt him, and walked away instead of insisting that he be treated fairly as a human being. Despite my initial misgivings about them, I knew Harry respected, loved, and trusted them with his life, so I tried to give them the benefit of the doubt and the respect they deserved as friends of my late father.

The second time I went to Hogwarts was for Albus Dumbledore's funeral, which was absolutely horrible for me. I'd barely known Professor Dumbledore, but I knew Harry greatly respected him and even thought of him as a grandfather-figure. While Harry and his friends made plans to finish Professor Dumbledore's work the next school year, I went up to Professor Dumbledore's newly-finished sepulchre and placed a bouquet of marigolds and Black-eyed Susans on top, silently expressing my grief and promising justice for his murder. Remus came up to me with a pretty, pink-haired woman at his side; he introduced her as Nymphadora Tonks, and the two of them stood with me in the crowd, making sure I was left alone by the press, which hung around the event like flies around rotten meat.

The third and last time I went to Hogwarts was the darkest and most triumphant day of my life. I lost so many members of my family but finally gained my own place in the magical world. This is the story of how I got there, where I had to go, and what I lost and gained along the way.

My name is Iris Eileen Potter, and this is my adventure.


	2. The Potter Twins vs The Dursleys

**Chapter One:****The Potter Twins vs. The Dursleys**

July 27, 1997, was a very stressful day.

As part of the Order of the Phoenix's plans to help Harry with his mission, the Dursleys had to go into hiding, just in case Voldemort and his ever-growing band of Death Eaters decided to take hostages. Needless to say, domineering Uncle Vernon hated being told what to do, but he was also too scared of being hexed so he did as he was told, sometimes. Every twenty-four hours or so, he would switch from planning on going to planting his feet and refusing to be moved. It would often take the combined efforts of Harry and me, and sometimes even the Order, to get Uncle Vernon to change his mind again, and even then he was rather begrudging and reluctant.

The Dursleys were scheduled to leave the night of July 27th, as soon as dinner was done. The house was completely emptied of personal items, the car was all packed with said items, and the Dursleys were sitting in the living room, dressed for travelling. Harry and I were sitting on the couch, having been called down from our respective bedrooms by Uncle Vernon to hear yet another change of mind.

"I've changed my mind," Uncle Vernon said.

"What a surprise," Harry said.

"Don't you take that tone –" Aunt Petunia began shrilly, but Uncle Vernon waved her down.

"It's all a lot of claptrap," he said, glaring at Harry. "I've decided I don't believe a word of it. We're staying put, we're not going anywhere."

Figuring I knew what was coming next, I quietly rolled my eyes in exasperation and settled into the couch as Uncle Vernon started pacing again.

"According to you two," he said, "we – Petunia, Dudley, and I – are in danger. From – from –"

"Some of 'my lot,' right," Harry said. I'd learned long ago to sit back and let Harry do the cheeky talk with Uncle Vernon when he was like this. Harry had the threat of his magic to protect him; I would've been smacked into next week if I'd spoken to him the way Harry was talking.

"Well, I don't believe it," Uncle Vernon said, stopping in front of Harry. "I was awake half the night thinking it all over, and I believe it's a plot to get the house."

Of all the things Uncle Vernon could have said, this was the absolute worst.

"House prices are skyrocketing around here!" he continued, ignoring our incredulously outraged expressions. "You want us out of the way and then you're going to do a bit of hocus-pocus and before we know it the deeds will be in your name and –"

"Are you out of your minds?" Harry hissed, on his feet before Uncle Vernon could blink. "A plot to get _the house_?! Are you actually as stupid as you look?"

"How dare you?!" Aunt Petunia shrieked, actually getting on her feet as well in her rage. She took a couple steps in Harry's direction, but to my surprise, Harry stood there and glared at her until she quickly stumbled back.

"Why would we want _this_ house?" I sneered darkly in a fit of temper. "All the happy memories, hidden under the blood?" I had no idea what I'd actually said until Harry turned and looked down at me.

"Blood?" he asked, his brilliant green eyes innocently confused.

I stared up at him for the longest time, wondering if I had enough courage to confess. I glanced over at the Dursleys and jumped slightly, surprised by their appearance. Uncle Vernon was a mottled shade of gray, Aunt Petunia was almost as pink as her coat, and poor Dudley looked horribly confused. He kept staring between his parents and me, seeming to ask what was going on. He'd been at his fancy boarding school, Smeltings, while I was alone with his parents, so he'd never seen what had happened to me.

"Rissie?" Harry asked, his eyes full of the same concern I'd seen in Remus's eyes during Professor Dumbledore's funeral.

In the end, I couldn't bring myself to say it. I simply shook my head and gripped my hands in my lap to hide their shivers. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, but I couldn't make myself meet anyone's gaze. I felt such an overpowering shame that I could barely keep myself together. I could only imagine how mortified Mum and Dad must have been up in heaven, having such a cowardly Squib for a daughter. Almost without realizing it, my head bowed and my shoulders rounded as if I was expecting a blow, my eyes burning and itching all the while.

"What. Did. You. _Do_?!"

I jumped slightly and turned to see a truly furious Harry Potter glaring at the Dursleys. I'd never told _anyone_ all of what the Dursleys had done to me during the school year, let alone my magical big brother who had a fierce, protective temper when it came to his only living sibling. Currently, he was standing between me and our "family", his eyes full of a brilliant emerald fire that promised pain to whoever was stupid enough to make him explode. The last place I saw a glare like that was in Professor Dumbledore's eyes after he Stunned the fake Moody two years ago; the memory of it was enough to send a shiver down my spine and make me hide a little behind Harry as he stared our aunt and uncle down.

Uncle Vernon rather stupidly tried to regain his bluster and began to pace again.

"N-Nothing. Now, you claim that this Lord Thing –"

"– Voldemort," Harry snarled impatiently, "and we've been through this a hundred times already. This isn't a claim, it's fact, Dumbledore told you last year, and Kingsley and Mr. Weasley explained it as well. Once Rissie and I are seventeen, the protective charm that keeps us _safe_ –" he levelled Uncle Vernon with a very pointed glare, "– will break, and that exposes you as well as us. The Order is sure Voldemort will target you, whether to torture you to try and find out where I am, or because he thinks by holding you hostage I'd come and try to rescue you."

I couldn't help scoffing a little behind Harry, despite a slight squirm of guilt in my gut. Yes, the Dursleys were absolutely horrible to me and Harry, but did they really deserve dying at Voldemort's hand? I really hoped I would never have to find out.

"I thought there was a Ministry of Magic," Uncle Vernon said.

This time, I made no attempt to hide my derision – a quiet, bitter laugh burst from my throat, which sounded surprisingly like Sirius's bark-like guffaw.

"The Ministry's been infiltrated!" I snorted. "Mr. Weasley and Kingsley already told you!"

"If we'd even seen CVs ..." Uncle Vernon said, seeming to realize he was grasping at straws.

"These accidents aren't accidents!" Harry bellowed, finally at the end of his fuse. "The crashes and explosions and derailments and whatever else has happened since we last watched the news. People are disappearing and dying and he's behind it – Voldemort! I've told you this over and over again, he kills Muggles for fun! Even the fogs – they're caused by dementors, and if you can't remember what they are, ASK YOUR SON!"

Dudley looked like Harry had just walloped him with a frying pan.

"There are ... _more_ of them?" he asked in horror.

"More?" Harry laughed. "More than the two that attacked us, you mean? Of course there are, there are hundreds, maybe thousands by this time, seeing as they feed off fear and despair –"

"All right, all right," Uncle Vernon blustered. "You've made your point –"

"I sure hope so," Harry sneered, "because once we're seventeen, all of them – Death Eaters, dementors, maybe even Inferi – zombies to you Muggles – will be able to find you and will certainly attack you. And if you remember the last time you tried to outrun wizards, I think you'll agree you need help."

Uncle Vernon glared at Harry for a moment before opening his mouth to say something, but surprisingly Dudley spoke up – and rather loudly, too.

"Dad," he said, "I'm going with these Order people."

We all stared at him for a moment before Harry spoke up and said, "Dudley, for the first time in your life, you're talking sense!"

I took a deep breath in relief, knowing the battle was won. If Dudley was frightened enough to accept the Order's help, his parents would be right there beside him – there was no way they would be separated from their Diddykins.

"They'll be here in five minutes," Harry said, grabbing my hand and all but dragging me upstairs to our bedroom. I knew what was coming and didn't like it one bit, but there wasn't really anything I could do to change Harry's mind once he got it set on something.

Once we were alone, I sat down on the windowsill and stared out at the sidewalk below, hoping the Order would be there quickly. While the Dursleys were going off to Merlin-knows-where with Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones, I would be taking part in what I called Operation: Multiple Man when the rest of the crew showed up. Hermione had told me about it yesterday in a letter written in an Ancient Runes code we developed last summer, which allowed her to share sensitive information with me without fear of detection.

I sighed when I heard Harry sit down on the bed, knowing he was staring at me, waiting for me to talk. After waiting for a long while, even through Dedalus and Hestia picking the Dursleys up, I finally grew too uncomfortable with his staring.

"I'm not saying anything, Harry," I said firmly, keeping my gaze on the sidewalk outside.

"Rissie, listen –"

"No, _you_ listen!" I said, turning to glare at Harry. "I've lived in this nightmare almost every day for the past sixteen years, and after today, it'll be nothing but the past. There's where it will stay – in the past – and there's nothing you can do about it! I'm sorry if that isn't to your liking, but that's reality."

Feeling my cheeks burn at my attitude and knowing that Uncle Vernon would never let me speak like this to him, I turned back to the window and tried to keep myself under control. Speaking to anyone with this kind of cheek was sometimes enough to trigger minor panic attacks, especially if it was a man I was talking to. According to my experience, the only man who didn't get violently angry when I was defiant was Remus. Everyone else had gotten angry enough to scream and either hit or throw something at me – even Sirius, who hadn't liked it when I'd gotten snippy with him about how he treated Kreacher. With Harry, it came and went, depending on what mood he was in.

"Rissie, look at me," Harry said quietly. "_Please_."

Knowing full-well that I couldn't say no to my twin when he talked like that, I turned to look back at him. The look in his eyes almost cut me in two; there was confusion, pain, guilt, and an overpowering love in them that would've brought tears to my eyes if I hadn't conditioned myself to not cry in front of Harry.

"What?" I asked, getting uncomfortable with Harry staring morosely at me.

I don't know what I was expecting him to say, but it definitely wasn't –

"I'm sorry."

"What?" I asked again, staring right back at Harry with shock written all over my freckled face.

Harry got up off the bed and came over to me. His brilliant eyes full of tears, he reached out and took my hand. I tensed slightly, instinctively nervous about being touched at all due to all the harsh treatment I've gotten over the years.

"They want me to be a hero, y'know," Harry said, looking down at the hand he was gently holding in his. "All of them ... the Ministry ... the Order ... Ron ... Hermione ... even _Dumbledore_! But I ... I don't know how to be. I can't even protect the one person I care about most!"

His grip tightened a little as his shoulders shook with suppressed sobs.

"Harry, you don't have to –"

"Yes, I do!" he cried, looking up at me again as the tears finally came out. "You're my sister! I'm supposed to protect you, not leave you alone with people like them!"

"You had no choice, Harry!" I said derisively, taking my hand back and looking out the window again. "I mean, you had to go to Hogwarts, and it's not like they'd take a Squib like me –"

"You're not a Squib!" Harry said, still firmly in denial as he was when he first heard about Squibs. "I remember you using magic!"

"No, you don't!" I cried. "What you remember is me standing next to you when you used magic! I've never used even the slightest bit of magic, unless you need magic to ride a broom. I know you don't like the idea of me being a Squib, but it's something you'll just have to accept. I have."

Harry gnashed his teeth slightly as he tried to think of a comeback for what I'd said, but that's when we heard it.

It was a noise we'd first heard in our dreams as we flew from the ruins of our first home to Privet Drive.

It was a giant motorcycle, which was carrying a man that was easily two times as tall and three times as wide as the average man. His name was Rubeus Hagrid, and he was part of the Order.

Operation: Multiple Man was a go!


	3. Polyjuice Potion

Thanks everyone so much for favoriting and following this story! You are all so amazing and I love you all! Don't forget to review - tell me what you like, what you don't like, ideas for the story, or just straight-up encouragement! BTW, a good point of reference for this OC's physical appearance is Katie Leclerc from "Switched At Birth". Enjoy!

- Owlix

**Chapter Three: ****Polyjuice Potion**

Wearing a wide grin, I raced downstairs to the kitchen, Harry hot on my heels. As I stared out the back window, I realized how large the group was. Apart from Hagrid, who was dominating the scene on the motorcycle, there were eleven people dismounting brooms and, in two cases, large, black, winged horses that looked like they should be carrying the Grim Reaper, not witches and wizards.

I jumped slightly as Harry wrenched the door open and hurled himself into the crowd. The grin on his face showed me that he obviously loved each and every one of these people. The thing is, I was able to recognize almost every single person in the group: Ron, Hermione, Gred and Forge (as they insisted on me calling them years ago), Bill Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Moody (who hated that I called him that), Dora Tonks and Remus, Kingsley, and Hagrid. The only person I didn't recognize, at least not at first, was a small, dirty man who eventually revealed himself as Mundungus Fletcher, a sneak-thief who I wouldn't trust with my hairbrush, let alone my life.

I quietly followed Harry outside, standing on the sidelines as everyone greeted him. I was pleasantly surprised when Dora came over and wrapped me in a hug; I _loved_ this vivacious, quirky woman who had become the big sister I never had. The best part was that she knew Sign Language, so we could have little secret talks in the corner where no one could eavesdrop of join in on our private jokes.

"_How are you, Rissie?_" she signed, wearing a big grin. "_Ready to go?_"

"_I've been ready for sixteen years!_" I signed back, chuckling a little. I paused as I noticed something glittery on Dora's left hand. I immediately grabbed it and stared at the beautiful wedding ring on her finger. We made eye contact for a split second before we were squealing and hopping around and hugging like a pair of giggly schoolgirls.

"_CONGRATULATIONS!_" I signed excitedly, no doubt looking like I was flailing a little. As Dora laughed at my enthusiasm, I hurried over to Remus, who was standing a few steps away, and flung my arms around him in a rare hug. I felt his body shudder with laughter as he picked me up and swung me around. When he set me down, I could see how tired and worried he was.

"You need a nap," I said in concern as I looked up at him. "A really long one!"

He chuckled again, but this time it seemed almost bitter.

"Don't worry, I'll get one," he said, seeming a bit surprised when Dora popped in next to us.

"I'll make sure he does," she said with a mischievous smirk, "even if I have to wear him out myself."

I couldn't help laughing at the more-than-awkward comment, barely managing to sign, "_You have fun with that,_" as Mr. Moody ushered us inside.

"Alright, alright," he growled, making sure silence had descended on the kitchen before continuing. "As ya probably already know, we had to abandon Plan A. Pius Thicknesse has gone over, which gives us a big problem. He's made it an imprisonable offence to connect this house ta the Floo Network, place a Portkey here, or Apparate in er out."

"Not that Harry can Apparate anyway," I cut in. "The Trace is still on us, right?"

Mr. Moody gave me a nod of approval.

"Exactly. If you two so much as sneeze, the Ministry's gonna know who wipes your nose! The point is we have to use those means of transportation the Trace can't detect: brooms, thestrals, and Hagrid's motorbike."

"Y'mean the horses out back?" I asked, surprised at the shocked looks everyone gave me.

"You can see them?!" Harry asked, almost in horror.

"You have to see someone die to see them," Hermione said, trying to explain.

I winced slightly as I remembered Sean Harris's pained, bloody face.

"A schoolmate ..." I said quietly. "Got run over by a lorry two years ago. Died before the medics could get there."

"Rissie ..." Harry said sympathetically. "Why didn't you –"

"You were busy," I said curtly, cutting Harry off before silently asking Mr. Moody to continue.

"We go in pairs," he said, giving me a bracing look. "That way, if there's anyone out there waiting for us – and I reckon there will be – they won't know which Harry Potter's the real one."

"The real one?" Harry asked as I dug into my pocket for the hanky I'd stuffed there earlier.

Mr. Moody smirked and pulled out his hip flask.

"I believe yer familiar with this particular brew," he said as he flipped the lid open.

"No!" Harry cried as his eyes grew wide and very frightened. "Absolutely not!"

"Told you he'd take it well," Hermione said complacently.

"No," Harry interjected, "if you think I'm going to let everyone risk their lives for me ..."

"Never done that before, have we?" Ron said snarkily, making me laugh a little.

"No, this is different!" Harry cried, pointing his wand at Mr. Moody, who was still waiting for Harry to finish his rant. "Taking that – becoming me ... no!"

"Well, none of us really fancy it, mate," George said from the corner.

"Yeah, imagine if something went wrong," Fred said eerily. "We'd end up a screwy, specky git **forever!**"

"Everyone here is of age, Potter," Mr. Moody said. "They've all agreed to take the risk. Miss Potter, as discussed."

Harry gaped at me as I waltzed over to Mr. Moody with a hanky full of long, dark hairs.

"Fresh from the pillow this morning, Mr. Moody," I chirped.

"Straight in here, if you please," he growled. "And don't call me Mister!"

I just smiled and carefully put the three hairs I had collected into the flask before standing in line between Mundungus and Ron, ignoring Harry's half-hearted glare.

"For those of you who haven't taken Polyjuice Potion before," Mr. Moody growled as he walked over to George, "fair warning – tastes like goblin piss."

"Have much experience with that, don't you, Mad-Eye?" George asked as he took the flask. When he saw Mr. Moody's blankly disapproving face, he quipped that he was trying to diffuse the tension before taking a small sip and shuddering before he lost at least a foot in height. Everyone in line took a sip and passed the bottle on to the next person, shuddering in disgust as we all slowly transformed into my twin. I have to say, it was REALLY uncomfortable being a boy after seventeen years as a girl. I was used to two somethings hanging out on my front, not something hanging between my legs; my balance was a bit off and I was trying to not stand bow-legged.

"Wow, we're identical!" Fred and George said, making me snicker a little.

"Not yet, yer not," Mr. Moody said as he dumped a pile of clothes on the floor, all of them exact replicas of what Harry was currently wearing. I quickly grabbed an outfit and hurried upstairs to the bathroom to change. I mean, it wasn't my body, but Harry wasn't really an exhibitionist; his friends were probably embarrassing him like mad downstairs.

"Rissie?"

I jumped as I was putting on Harry's shirt and turned to see Harry standing in the doorway. He had a questioning look on his face. I sighed, knowing what he wanted to know.

"His name was Sean Harris," I said, turning around as I continued to strip and change. "He was the one who taught me sign language and introduced me to my Art teacher. I was the one in front of the lorry; he shoved me out of the way when he realized I couldn't hear it coming. He was in my arms when he died. I tried to keep him alive but I ..."

Harry didn't say anything. He simply turned me around and helped me zip up the jacket and put my glasses on before wrapping me in a hug.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there," he said as he held me close, "but I will be there from now on. After the war's over, we won't ever be apart. I promise."

I chuckled and returned the hug.

"I hope you aren't thinking of moving in after I get married," I quipped. "I'm not really into threesomes ... or incest for that matter."

Harry chuckled this time and ruffled up my hair ... or rather _his_ hair.

"This is so weird!" I said as I tried to make the black mop on my head look better. "How you handle this without shaving it all off is a mystery to me."

"Well, you're a girl," Harry said as we headed back down the stairs. "You all feel you have to look good."

"Of course," I said. "Where else can we hide our diabolical schemes except behind a pretty face? Right, Hermione?"

"Absolutely!" she said as she slipped her glasses on. "Harry, your eyesight really is awful!"

"Possibly the effect of the Killing Curse," I said. "My ears are the same." Reminded of my hearing aids by that statement, I blinked in surprise and slipped them off and closed my eyes.

"Someone say something!" I said.

There was a pause, like the others were trying to decide who would say it.

"Something," I heard Dora said from across the room.

I grinned over at her as she grinned back at me. Her best friend in school was profoundly deaf, so Dora knew how amazing it would be for me to hear with my own two ears again.

"Right then, we'll be pairing off," Mr. Moody said. "Each Potter will have a protector. Mundungus, stick tight to me – I wanna keep an eye on ya. As for Harry ..."

"Yes?" we all said. I could barely keep from smirking at Mr. Moody's almost-impressed face.

"The real Harry – where the devil are ye anyway?"

"Here," Harry said from the back of the room.

"Ye'll be riding with Hagrid."

Hagrid stepped forward and spoke quietly to Harry. I figured I'd step back and let them have a moment. I walked over to Bill, who I'd be with for this trip. I hadn't really seen his scars before, but I was trying to not stare at them. I knew how uncomfortable it was when someone stared at my hearing aids.

"How good are you with horseback riding?" he asked with a small smile.

"Not bad," I said. "As long as I have a firm grip, it's pretty hard for me to fall off."

"Good," he said, clapping me on the back. "You'll need the firm grip before the night's over."


	4. Not Gonna Get Us

A second chapter for everyone to enjoy tonight! Happy reading!

-Owlix

**Chapter Four: ****Not Gonna Get Us**

After Mr. Moody gave us the signal to leave, we all filed out to the road in front of the house. As I stood in front of the house, I had the strangest urge to throw my house key straight through the front window, but I didn't want to give the neighbours a reason to glance outside. Bill helped me climb onto the thestral, which was actually quite beautiful in an eerie way, and then climbed on behind me.

"Head for the Burrow," Mr. Moody called. "We rendezvous there. On the count of three!"

At Mr. Moody's bellowed "three", I gave the thestral a nudge in the gut to make it start cantering down the street. All at once, it crouched low and leapt into the sky with a flap of its leathery wings. I tried to swallow my rather high-pitched yelp, but I doubt anyone heard me over the wind.

"Stay low if you can," Bill called in my ear. "And keep heading north! Our safe house is in that direction."

"Got it!" I said, leaning down to hug the thestral's neck as I pointed it in the right direction, remembering the plan to go to individual safe houses _before_ going to the Burrow. It was an idea of Moody's, to help scramble the Death Eaters if they were there.

Bill and I rose higher and higher until we breached the cloud cover ...

And entered my very first battle.

Spells were flying everywhere in the forms of white, red, and green jets of light, like some lethal Christmas light show. I immediately began worrying about the others, but I forced that reaction down. The others were well-versed in fighting these bullies, and Hagrid would be more likely to get Harry out than let him stay and fight, so my first priority was to survive this battle and get to the safe house.

I could hear Bill bellowing charms, hexes, jinxes, and curses as he tried to keep the Death Eaters off of us. Meanwhile, I led the thestral through loads of tricks to keep the Death Eaters further away from us. I tried to pretend that this was a really dangerous version of Quidditch where the Bludgers also belched spells at you to knock you off your broom, and it helped a little as I tricked them into colliding with each other or a spell cast by someone else. I knew the ones that were falling would die before they hit the ground, but I forced myself to not think about that. They were trying to kill me and they were hoping to kill Harry; it was either us or them, and I chose us.

As I was trying to get away from a particularly persistent group of Death Eaters, I glanced over and saw Mr. Moody and Mundungus. Mundungus seemed really anxious, but I couldn't see any reason why he wouldn't be. All of a sudden, a dark shape that looked almost like a dark-winged angel rose up out of the clouds in front of them. It had a stick in its white, long-fingered hand and an evil, triumphant smile on its pasty, snake-like face.

It was _Him_!

He could fly!

For real, with no broomstick!

... We were practically dead ...

Mundungus let out a horrible screech and Apparated away as a Killing Curse was sent their way, proving that he wasn't the real Harry.

I let out a very feminine scream of denial as the Killing Curse hit Mr. Moody full in the face, sending him toppling backwards off his broom.

_He_ looked my way and saw me. He sent an even darker grin my way just before Bill grabbed the reins and forced the thestral to do a near-180 degree turn in an effort to get away.

"KEEP GOING!" Bill bellowed in my ear. "NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS, KEEP GOING!"

I nodded, barely holding onto the reins as Bill handed them back. I forced myself to make the thestral swerve and spin and dive to escape the spells being sent our way, to keep going on in the knowledge that Harry was waiting for me at the end of this battle. I had to keep that thought in mind – Harry was waiting for me, he needed me to be alive when he saw me again.

I don't know how long we kept flying, but by the time Bill and I were finally left alone, we were flying a few hundred feet above Liverpool.

"Turn around," Bill said dully. "We've missed our Portkey by now. We need to head straight to the Burrow."

"R-R-Right," I muttered, shivering from the cold wind and the rush of adrenaline flowing through me.

How did Harry handle stuff like this every year?

I couldn't imagine doing stuff like this all the time – I'd go insane!

Bill and I flew on for a couple hours, him guiding me along in that same dull tone. The battle and the magical drain catching up to him, no doubt.

We finally landed in the Burrow's front yard. Bill carefully helped me down from the thestral, holding me steady as my body's shaking grew worse due to the cold, loss of adrenaline, and the Polyjuice Potion having worn off.

"You did good, kid," he said, making me look up at him.

"B-But I –"

"You only panicked once the entire time," Bill said firmly, looking me straight in the face to make sure I could read his lips. "You pulled off tricks that would have landed you a place on any international Quidditch team if you'd been on a broom. You did good."

I gave him a shaky smile at the Quidditch reference, but that was all I had time for before Bill guided me inside the house, to the living room. I barely heard Harry call my name from somewhere to my right. I turned just in time to catch him as he wrapped me in a desperate, clinging hug.

"You're alive!" Harry gasped in my right ear, clearly close to tears. "You're OK! You're alive! You're OK!"

He kept repeating that mantra as we both wept in each other's arms. I had never felt this scared or this relieved to be alive.

I felt Harry stiffen just before he let go to stare in abject horror at me.

"You saw Moody ..." he started, but he couldn't seem to finish the thought, as if voicing it would make it official.

I seemed to be facing the same problem myself, as I couldn't make myself speak. I nodded as I reached into my pocket to retrieve my hearing aids and put them on. Once they were adjusted properly, I heard Bill telling Mr. Weasley what had happened.

" – went straight for them. Dung panicked, I heard him cry out, Mad-Eye tried to stop him, but he Disapparated. Voldemort's curse hit Mad-Eye full in the face, he fell backward off his broom and – there was nothing we could do, nothing, we had half a dozen of them on our own tail –"

His voice broke, making him unable to continue.

"Bill ... was amazing," I said quietly, making everyone look at me. "If he hadn't ... kept us – kept _me_ together ... I don't think we would've gotten back."

I disappeared into Harry's arms again as he pulled me close, shaking as badly as I was.

"Harry?" I asked quietly, sensing something else was wrong.

Harry was quiet for a long moment before he said, "Hedwig."

I let out a pained gasp as I tightened my grip on my twin. That beautiful bird was the only person who knew everything about Harry and me; she'd lived through most of it, and I'd told her other things when Harry wasn't around since I knew she couldn't snitch. The realization that I would never feel those silky white feathers again or hear the gentle cheep again was the hammer-blow that broke open the dam of tears I was hiding behind my eyes. For the first time since we were very small, I cried in front of Harry, soaking his shoulder even more than it already was. Harry didn't seem to mind as he pulled me even closer and began stroking my hair.

Harry spent the rest of the evening with me in his arms, trying to hold us together by holding me together. There wasn't a moment where we weren't touching; after coming so near to losing each other, we were almost desperate for physical contact as a reminder that we were still together.

I remember sitting by George's side for a while as Harry's hands rested on my shoulders.

"You want me to get you anything, Forge?" I asked, hoping to make him laugh. I was rewarded with a small chuckle; I'd take it.

"Nah, I've got a lovely lady sitting next to me and smiling at me," he said woozily. "I think I've got it made here!"

Normally I'd flick him in the ear for that, but seeing as he only had one and it was hidden on the other side of his head, I settled for flicking him in the nose.

"How're you feeling, Miss Iris?" he asked after rubbing his nose a bit. "You holdin' up OK?"

I just chuckled at his sweetness; he knew me as the sister of a friend, and yet he wanted to look after me.

"Yeah," I said quietly. "I mean, I may need a nightmare or two to get the shock out of my system, but I'll be fine."

Harry's hands squeezed my shoulders for a moment, as if he was trying to remind himself that I was still here. I responded by leaning back into him and looking up to smile at him.

"Bravest of us all, you are," Fred said from his place at George's head.

I blushed and tried to look away.

"N-No, I'm not," I said, but Remus stepped in at that moment to cut me off.

"Yes, you are, my dear," he said firmly. "We all had magic to protect us if things went wrong. You have none, and yet you still decided to become a decoy for your brother, knowing the risks."

I looked up at him as I tried to formulate a response.

"Harry's spent his entire life protecting me," I said quietly, trying to hide the quiver in my voice. "That reckless streak that drives you all mad, he developed it to make himself the bigger target so I wouldn't get hurt. After all the time I've spent under his care, do you honestly think I wouldn't do the same for him when I got the chance? That bastard's out for my brother's blood, and I'm telling you right now, he'll have to tear me apart and burn the pieces before I'd let him lay a finger on _my_ brother!"

"... That'll never happen," Harry said as he squeezed my shoulders again. "I promise you ... he's not gonna get us!"


	5. My Seventeeth Birthday

Hey everybody! First off, I want to thank Amethyst Grace 99 for being this story's very first reviewer! I try to follow Jo's version as closely as possible in my fanfics - I am a Potterhead, after all! Thanks for noticing and reviewing - you're amazing! Unfortunately, Rissie and Edward won't meet for a while, but I promise that when they do, it will be a meeting you won't forget! For everyone else (including you, Amethyst Grace 99), enjoy the new chapter! Once again, please review! I'm all up for constructive criticism if you have any! I want to be a better writer and I can't be that if I don't know where to start fixing things! Thanks!

-Owlix

**Chapter Five:**** My Seventeenth Birthday**

The shock of what became known as the Battle of the Seven Potters hung over us like a mourning veil for the next few days. Every time I heard an owl chirp, I kept expecting Hedwig to appear instead of Errol or Pigwidgeon, the Weasleys' owls. I was grateful to Mrs. Weasley for keeping me busy – so busy, in fact, that I hardly had time to think.

Before she gave me chores, though, she interrogated me about Harry's desire to drop out of Hogwarts. I barely knew what Harry was doing, so I couldn't give her the answers she desired. All I knew was that Dumbledore had given Harry a job to do, and that he'd have to leave Hogwarts to do it. I'd gotten worried and cried when he first told me that I wouldn't be able to contact him while he was gone, but he promised me that he would find a way to contact me every once in a while to let me know he was safe.

The third night of our stay, the entire Order came over to the Burrow for dinner. Since the magical protection on the original headquarters had waned to the point of it being too dangerous, the Burrow was now Headquarters for the Order.

The kitchen became so crowded that evening that it was hard to use our knives and forks. Harry looked decidedly uncomfortable sitting next to his ex-girlfriend, Ginny.

"No news about Mad-Eye?" he asked Bill.

"Nothing," Bill said dejectedly. "The _Daily Prophet_ hasn't said a word about him dying or about finding the body, but that doesn't mean much. It's keeping a lot quiet these days."

"Like the underage magic Harry used?" I asked from Bill's other side. He shook his head.

"Because they know I had no choice or because they don't want the world to know Voldemort attacked me?" Harry asked.

"The latter, I think," Mr. Weasley said. "Scrimgeour doesn't want to admit that You-Know-Who is as powerful as he is, nor that Azkaban's seen a mass breakout."

"Isn't anyone at the Ministry prepared to stand up to him?" Ron asked angrily.

"Of course, Ron, but people are terrified," Mr. Weasley replied tiredly, "terrified that they will be next to disappear, their children next to be attacked! There are nasty rumours going around; I for one don't believe the Muggle Studies professor resigned. She hasn't been seen for weeks now. Meanwhile Scrimgeour remains shut up in his office all day; I just hope he's working on a plan."

After dinner, Ron and Harry were assigned cleaning two different things, keeping them apart for a while as Mrs. Weasley no doubt planned. I wished I could have leant then my support in whatever they were planning, but I didn't even _have_ a wand, let alone know how to use one. I spent the entire day helping the others sort out wedding gifts based on who they were from and who specifically they were for. With the limited amount of space offered at the Burrow, it was surprisingly hard to pull off.

The next day, at eleven o'clock, Bill's future in-laws arrived. I'd never seen the Burrow look so neat. The rusty, dented cauldrons and muddy boots by the back door were replaced by two new Flutterby bushes, which constantly rippled as if there was a breeze going by. The chickens were in their pen, the yard was swept and raked, and the gardens were pruned, plucked, and spruced up.

We all were waiting outside, looking as smart as possible while still being casual, when an awkwardly-laughing Mr. Weasley came waddling into the yard, carrying at least three trunks and leading a tall, blond woman in green robes who could only be the mother of the almost-too-beautiful Fleur Delacour.

"Maman!" Fleur cried, hurrying over to embrace her parents. "Papa!"

Monsieur Delacour was obviously leaving all the beauty in the family to his wife and daughters. He was a head shorter than Madame Delacour and quite plump with a nicely pointed goatee. However, he was very friendly, kissing Mrs. Weasley twice on both cheeks in greeting. He reminded me of a goateed Hercule Poirot, a moustached Belgian detective from an Agatha Christie novel that I liked.

"You 'ave been to much trouble," he said in a deep, smooth voice. "Fleur tells us you 'ave been working very 'ard."

"Oh, it's been nothing!" Mrs. Weasley sang delightedly. "No trouble at all!"

"Dear lady!" Monsieur Delacour said, still holding on to Mrs. Weasley's hands and beaming as only the French can. "We are most 'onored at the approaching union of our two families! Let me present my wife, Apolline!"

Madame Delacour glided over to kiss Mrs. Weasley as well.

"_Enchantee_," she purred. "Your 'usband 'as been telling us such amusing stories!"

"And, of course, you 'ave met my leetle daughter, Gabrielle!" Monsieur Delacour said excitedly as an elf of a little girl hurried over to Mrs. Weasley a hug and a dazzling smile.

"Well, come in!" Mrs. Weasley gushed, ushering the Delacour family in.

Gabrielle spotted me standing over by Harry and danced over to me.

"I 'ave not seen you before," she said in a bell-like voice. "Are you 'Arry Potter's ... eh, _paramour_?"

I turned beet red as I tried to speak clearly.

"Oh, no! No, I'm Harry's sister! His twin!" I said through brilliantly red cheeks.

"Oh," Gabrielle said, seeming even more confused. "Zen, why were you not at 'Ogwarts?"

"Gabrielle, _assez_!"

The unexpected bark from Monsieur Delacour made us all jump. Gabrielle smiled at me and curtsied before going to stand by her mother as Monsieur Delacour came over to us.

"Apologies, _mademoiselle_," he said quietly, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "Madame Weasley 'as told me of your ... affliction. It must be very difficult, _cherie_!"

"Not at all, Monsieur," I said graciously. "I grew up that way, so I really don't know what I'm missing! By the way, have you ever read anything by Agatha Christie? She's a Muggle author, a very good one!"

"Ah, _oui, mademoiselle_!" Monsieur Delacour gushed. "You are sinking of Monsieur Poirot, _n'est-ce pas_?"

"_Oui_," I said instinctively before switching back to English. "I mean, yes, I am! I absolutely love those stories!"

"Zen we shall 'ave to discuss zem some more, _cherie_!" Monsieur Delacour cried in delight. "Until zen, _adieu_!" He kissed my cheek again before joining his wife at Mrs. Weasley's table, discussing the wedding plans with great fervour.

"Agatha Christie, huh?" Harry asked, a small smile on his face.

I just shrugged. "I love a good mystery," I said, "and Agatha Christie writes some of the best!"

The next day was a day that should've been a true celebration for me. I was now seventeen, officially an adult in the Wizarding World. However, since I was a Squib, I really didn't get many rights now that I was an adult. There was no Squib representation in the Wizengamot nor in any other governing body, which meant I might as well go and live as a Muggle for the rest of my life.

I dressed in a new dark lilac cocktail dress Ginny had bought me (she had very good taste!) and some navy blue flats before heading down to the breakfast table, which had two piles of presents on it. Harry came down behind me a moment later, smiling at me.

"Arthur told me to wish you both a happy seventeenth," Mrs. Weasley said, beaming at Harry and me. "He had to leave early for work, but he'll be back for dinner. Our presents are on the top!"

The present inside was a golden pocket-watch that had stars circling around the face instead of hands. I looked up at Mrs. Weasley in question.

"It's traditional to give a witch and wizard a watch when they come of age," she said, looking at us anxiously from beside the oven. "I'm afraid they aren't new like Ron's was. Yours, Harry, is actually my brother Fabian's, and Rissie's is my other brother Gideon's. They weren't terribly careful with their possessions, Fabian's is dented on the back –"

Harry and I immediately wrapped Mrs. Weasley in a hug before she could say another word. I couldn't even try to put the emotions I was feeling into words. Even though I was a Squib, Mrs. Weasley was acknowledging that I was still a part of their world, and the fact that the watch used to belong to her brother let me know that she saw me as a part of the family, worthy enough to inherit something belonging to a war hero. I'm sure she understood because she patted us on the back and gave us each a dewy smile before going back to making breakfast.

Soon, the others were in the room, and Harry and I could open the rest of our presents. Harry got a new Sneakoscope from Hermione, an enchanted razor from Bill and Fleur, chocolate from the Delacours, and Weasley Wizarding Wheezes' products from Fred and George. I got a book on influential Squibs from Hermione, a Chudley Cannons jacket from Ron (I was a fan as well, being in love with the idea of the underdog), hair ribbons that would change colour to match any outfit I wore from Bill and Fleur, more Weasley Wizarding Wheezes' products from Fred and George, and from the Delacours ...

"A first edition copy of 'The Greenshore Folly' by ... Agatha Christie?!" I gasped, staring over at Monsieur and Madame Delacour.

"You like it, _mademoiselle_?" Monsieur Delacour asked, grinning next to his gently smiling wife.

I carefully set the book down on the table before hurrying over to the Delacours to give them each a hug, thanking them in their own language over and over again.

The rest of the day was spent reading my new Agatha Christie book and getting happy birthday wishes over and over again and helping Mrs. Weasley get ready for dinner. The boys helped me place multiple tables set end to end in the garden, which was decorated with floating purple lanterns emblazoned with a golden 17 that were enchanted by the twins. Hermione covered the trees and bushes with artistically placed purple and gold streamers. Mrs. Weasley made not one, but _two_, birthday cakes that night, one shaped like a Snitch and the other like an iris.

"That looks amazing, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, smiling at his Snitch cake.

"Oh, it's nothing, dear," Mrs. Weasley said fondly.

By seven o'clock, the final three guests had arrived: Hagrid (dressed in a horrible hairy brown suit), Dora (glowing with marital bliss), and Remus (looking very gray and unhappy for some reason).

"_Happy birthday, Rissie!_" Dora signed before giving me a huge hug. "Here," she said, handing me a wrapped package. I grinned at the sight of a new sketch pad and set of colored pencils.

When Remus came over, sending a worried glance Dora's way before smiling at me, he wrapped me in the warmest hug I'd had in a long time. I felt horrible for thinking this sometimes, but I was glad that I finally had something that Harry didn't – a loving godfather who was willing and able to take care of me, even if he wasn't allowed to.

"You're a woman now, Rissie," he said warmly. "Your mother would be so proud of you, sweetheart!"

I grinned in delight as I felt my eyes prickle with unshed tears before bringing them over to the table, where we were ready to sing Happy Birthday. As we were tucking into the cake (chocolate for the Snitch, and carrot for the iris), a streak of silver light flew into the yard and onto the table. It transformed into a silver weasel, stood up on its hind legs, and spoke in Mr. Weasley's voice.

"Minister of Magic coming with me."


	6. On My Side

Hello, my lovelies! First off, I want to thank Maiannaise and ZabuzasGirl for reviewing this story! Maiannaise, I hope you continue to find this interesting! ZabuzasGirl, I'm sorry I couldn't update immediately, but I hope this will make things a bit better! I hope I portray being a Squib realistically - I base my views on being autistic in today's world, where having a mental disorder or disability almost makes you less than a person. Please read and review - I love to hear your opinions! Enjoy!

-Owlix

**Chapter Six: ****On My Side**

At the announcement that the Minister himself would soon be blessing the Burrow with his ever-so-magnanimous presence (note the sarcasm), everyone froze for a split second before scrambling around like loosed chickens.

"We shouldn't be here," Remus said almost immediately. After hastily apologizing, he all but dragged Dora away and Apparated the moment they could.

"The Minister?" Mrs. Weasley gasped in bewilderment. "But why – I don't understand –"

Before anyone could discuss the subject, the man of the hour showed up at Mr. Weasley's side. The much-older man reminded me of a wounded lion trying to take control of a new pride – not only because of his battered-looking face and grizzled mane but also because of his growling attempts to bring all of Wizarding Britain under his thumb, including Harry and me. He'd offered to allow Harry and me to become poster-children for the Ministry during the prior Christmas, but due to Harry's negative experience with them, we had very firmly declined.

"Sorry to intrude," he said as he limped toward us. Harry and I stood together near the head of the table, him standing slightly in front of me, to protect me, I assume. "Especially as I can see that I am gate-crashing a party. Many happy returns," he said, not terribly sincerely.

"Thanks," Harry said in the same tone.

"I require a private word with the pair of you," Scrimgeour quietly demanded. "Also with Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger."

"Us?" Ron gasped. "Why us?"

"I shall tell you that when we are somewhere more private," Scrimgeour said, almost looking down his nose at Ron as he did so. "Is there such a place?" he asked of Mr. Weasley.

"Yes, of course," Mr. Weasley nervously replied. "The, er, sitting room, why don't you use that?"

"You can lead the way," Scrimgeour sniffed at Ron. "There will be no need for you to accompany us, Arthur."

As we all walked into the Burrow, I made sure to pull Harry back slightly until I could clearly see Scrimgeour's every movement. Based off of what I knew of most high-ranking Ministry officials, I didn't want his eye on Harry's back if I could help it.

Once inside, Harry turned the lights on and asked the Minister to sit down. He did so, sitting in Mr. Weasley's sagging armchair and staring at us imperiously. Hermione and I sat in the sofa while Harry and Ron stood at our sides near the armrests, looking rather like bodyguards as they watched Scrimgeour very closely.

"I have some questions for the four of you," Scrimgeour began, "and I think it will be best if we do it individually."

"Out of the question, I'm afraid," I said, surprising everyone, including myself, with how imperiously steady my voice was. "Certainly it would save you valuable time, Minister, to question us together. Don't you think?"

The look Scrimgeour gave me was cold and appraising, much like said injured lion sizing up a possible threat.

"Very well, then, together," he said, shrugging as if he couldn't care either way. I could see the tightness in his jaw, though; he was frustrated with us, at least.

"I am here, as I'm sure you know, because of Albus Dumbledore's will. A surprise, apparently!" he cried, as he saw the others sharing looks over my shoulder. I made sure to keep my face smooth and cold; this man wouldn't see me break if I could help it. "You were not aware then that Dumbledore had left you anything?" he asked.

"A-All of us?" Ron asked. "Me and Hermione too?"

Before Ron could answer, Harry jumped in.

"Dumbledore died over a month ago," he said coldly. "Why has it taken this long to give us what he left us?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione replied sharply. "They wanted to examine what he's left us. You had no right to do that!" she shot at Scrimgeour, her voice trembling slightly.

"I had every right," Scrimgeour sneered dismissively. "The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power to confiscate the contents of a will –"

"That law was created to stop wizards from passing on Dark artefacts," Hermione snapped, "and the Ministry is supposed to have powerful evidence that the deceased's possessions are illegal before seizing them! Are you telling me that you thought Dumbledore was trying to pass us something cursed?"

"Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Granger?" Scrimgeour asked.

"No, I'm not!" Hermione retorted. "I'm hoping to do some good in the world!"

Ron and I couldn't help laughing a little before Scrimgeour continued.

"Would you say you were close to Dumbledore, Iris?" Scrimgeour asked. I felt my stomach lurch as I was put on the spot, but I refused to let it show. I'd dealt with far worse than this man.

"If I was mentioned in his will, wouldn't that tell you everything you need to know?" I asked. "Or are you still picking at straws to find the many moles in your precious Ministry?"

Judging by the sharp intake of breath I heard to my left, I'd shocked Hermione pretty badly. Good – I was hoping a bit of shock factor would get this ball rolling.

As it was, Scrimgeour had pulled out a scroll of parchment, which he unrolled before our eyes and read aloud.

"'The Last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore' ... Yes, here we are ... 'To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it.'"

He pulled out what looked like a silver cigarette lighter from a bag at his side. It looked fairly ordinary, but I knew it could turn out all lights in the user's vicinity by sucking the light itself into its depths. Ron, who almost reverently accepted it, looked quite stunned.

"Dumbledore must have taught thousands of students," Scrimgeour said quietly. "Yet the only ones he remembered in his will were you. Why is that? To what use did he think you would put his Deluminator, Mr. Weasley?"

"Put out lights, I s'pose," Ron mumbled. "What else could I do with it?"

Instead of answering, Scrimgeour continued reading the will.

"'To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beetle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive.'"

The small leather book was easily the oldest and ugliest I'd ever seen, yet Hermione was staring at it like it held the answer to all life as she held it in her hands.

"Why do you think Dumbledore left you that book, Miss Granger?" Scrimgeour asked, ignoring the obvious tears in Hermione's eyes.

"He ... he knew I liked books," Hermione said thickly, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"'To Iris Lily Potter,'" Scrimgeour continued, "'I leave my Pensieve, in the hope that she will know the freedom of a clear and uncluttered mind.'"

Unable to fully contain my shock and confusion, I held out my slightly trembling hands and accepted an inscribed silver bowl that, when it was full, would contain gaseous swips of memories. Memories I had no idea how to extract without the use of a wand, which I did not have!

"This is a very valuable magical object," Scrimgeour said, watching me closely. "Why would he leave you an item so rare?"

"... I was always the objective pair of eyes," I said quietly. "Maybe he knew I was about to get too far into this war to keep that objective eye ..."

Scrimgeour must have turned back to the will because I heard him reading from it again.

"'To Harry James Potter, I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill.'"

I blinked a couple times and stared at Scrimgeour as he held out the walnut-sized ball on a handkerchief. No doubt to avoid the flesh memory problem ...

"Why did Dumbledore leave you this Snitch?"

"No idea," Harry said. "For the reasons you just read out, I suppose ..."

"You think this is a mere symbolic keepsake, then?"

"What else could it be?" Harry asked.

"I'm asking the questions," Scrimgeour snapped.

"It could be a hiding place," I said, wanting to get this over with and get back to my party. "Snitches have flesh memories ... it'll remember Harry's touch ... like a fingerprint lock ..."

Then I remembered something important. Harry nearly swallowed the Snitch in his first Quidditch game, so if he picked the Snitch up again with his hands, nothing would happen.

I looked over at Harry, who was looking worriedly over at me. I gave him a rather mischievous smirk and nodded at the Snitch, urging him to take it. Armed by my blessing, he did so ...

And, as I'd guessed, nothing happened.

"That was dramatic," Harry said coolly, making all of us on the sofa laugh. "That's all, then?"

"Not quite," Scrimgeour growled, looking to be in a very bad temper. "Dumbledore left you a second bequest, Mr. Potter – the sword of Godric Gryffindor.

"Unfortunately," he said, ignoring the looks of shock directed at him, "that sword was not Dumbledore's to give away. The sword of Godric Gryffindor is an important historical artefact, and, as such, belongs –"

" – To Harry!" I said hotly. "It chose him, that day in the Chamber of Secrets!"

"According to reliable historical sources, the sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor," Scrimgeour said, as though I was slow instead of hard-of-hearing. "That does not make it the exclusive property of Mr. Potter, whatever Dumbledore may have decided. Why do you think –?"

"– Dumbledore wanted to give me the sword?" Harry said hotly. "Maybe he thought it would look nice on my wall!"

I placed a hand on Harry's arm to try to keep him calm, but Scrimgeour was on a bit of a roll.

"This is not a joke, Mr. Potter! Was it because Dumbledore believed that only the sword of Godric Gryffindor could defeat the Heir of Slytherin? Did he wish to give you that sword, Potter, because he believed, as do many, that you are the one destined to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Interesting theory," Harry said, patting my hand before standing up. "Has anyone ever tried sticking a sword in Voldemort? Maybe the Ministry should put some people into that, instead of wasting their time stripping down Deluminators or covering up breakouts from Azkaban! So is this what you've been doing, Minister, shut up in your office, trying to break open a _Snitch_?! People are dying – I was nearly one of them – Voldemort chased me across three counties, he killed Mad-Eye Moody, but there's been no word about any of that from the Ministry, has there? And you still expect us to cooperate with you!"

"You go too far!" Scrimgeour shouted as he leapt to his feet. He limped toward Harry, but I lunged between the two and raised my hands defensively.

"Minister, we understand you're under a lot of pressure," I cried, "but try to see this from our side! We –"

"Shut up, you useless Squib!" Scrimgeour roared, pointing his wand directly over my heart. "Remember you have no place here, no right –!"

"Oi!" Ron cried, leaping to his feet and raising his own wand, but Harry stopped him.

"No! D'you want to give him a reason to arrest us?" Harry asked, his voice clearly coming through clenched teeth.

"Remembered you're not at school, have you?" Scrimgeour growled, breathing hard into my face. "Remembered that I am not Dumbledore, who forgave you your insolence and insubordination? You may wear that scar like a crown, Potter, but it is not up to a seventeen-year-old boy, nor his stupid Squib of a sister, to tell me how to do my job! It's time you learned some respect!"

Harry firmly took hold of my shoulders and made me step back before stepping between me and Scrimgeour's wand.

"It's time you earned it," Harry said, almost daring Scrimgeour to do something. I gripped the back of Harry's shirt and tugged slightly, trying to make him step back a bit, but he wouldn't budge.

All of a sudden, we heard the rumble of running footsteps, and then Mr. and Mrs. Weasley burst into the room, panting harshly as they held up their wands.

"We – we thought we heard –" Mr. Weasley began, staring in alarm at Harry and Scrimgeour.

"– Raised voices!" Mrs. Weasley panted, looking more than ready to step in and take Scrimgeour down herself.

After a moment, Scrimgeour stepped back.

"It – it was nothing," he growled, not putting his wand back just yet. "I ... regret your attitude," he said as he looked Harry full in the face. "You seem to think that the Ministry does not desire what you – what Dumbledore – desired. We ought to be working together."

"I don't like your methods, Minister," Harry growled, raising his fist so that the back was clearly visible to Scrimgeour. "Remember?"

Without another word, Scrimgeour turned and limped from the room. I stayed frozen, clutching the back of Harry's shirt for support as Mrs. Weasley hurried after him. After a minute or so, I heard her call back that he was gone.

With that, I let out a shaky breath of relief. That was too close for comfort – nearly getting hexed by the Minister of Magic himself!

"Rissie?"

I looked up and saw Harry trying to turn around, but I had his shirt in too tight a grip. I quickly let him go and tried to straighten out my dress to hide the fact that I was absolutely terrified. I jumped slightly when Harry took my hands; I looked up to see his shining emerald eyes full of concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

I gave a weak sort of chuckle. I knew I wasn't fooling anyone, but I had no idea how to break down in front of so many people!

"Y-Yeah," I stuttered.

I jumped again when I felt Harry's hand on my hair, stroking it gently.

"He's wrong, y'know," he said, causing me to look at him questioningly.

"You do have a place here," he continued passionately. "You do have rights here! Even if you are a Squib, you're still my sister, and I won't let anyone tell you any differently! They're just a bunch of stupid, bigoted liars!"

His words would have warmed any normal person to the core, but I knew I shouldn't get my hopes up. His world would never accept me; I'd known that since I was twelve. I shook my head, firmly ignoring the burning of tears in my eyes.

"I m-may have a p-place here," I choked around the lump in my throat, "but I w-won't have a place anywhere else! Squibs don't m-matter to people – we've never mattered! They don't – don't even take record of us anymore! We're just ... just a b-bunch of stupid lumps of flesh and blood that will n-never amount to anything in either world! Everyone j-just feels pity for us at b-best and d-disgust at worst!"

I had more of that rant saved up, but I was surprised when Hermione spoke up indignantly.

"How do you think I feel, being a Muggleborn?!" she asked sharply. "At best, I'm a curiosity for pushing and fighting so hard to be accepted, and at worst, I'm – I'm the lowly peasant girl who dares to defy her betters! Very few people are going to dare to take me seriously; they'll think I'm just a silly girl who doesn't understand how things have been done for the past thousand years! What they don't realize is how wrong those old traditions are! You're an absolutely amazing girl, Rissie!" she cried, coming over to take one of my hands from Harry. "Harry's told Ron and me all about you! He's always so proud when you write to tell him something great that you've done! Why, the time you won that art contest at school in forth year, he almost jumped up on the table and declared it to the Great Hall!"

Everyone chuckled as Harry's face went beet red, despite his proud grin.

"So what if you're a Squib?" Ron asked, stepping in to put his hand on my shoulder. "You're almost as smart as Hermione, you're wittier than most of Slytherin and Ravenclaw combined, you're right sweet, and you have brilliant Quidditch skills! You're as good as half the people I know and better than most of 'em! Scrimgeour's off his head if all he can see is that you can't do magic! They _all_ are!"

I looked around at all three of them, taking in their expressions of determination and ... love! They loved me! A stupid little Squib who would never fit in!

"B-But ... you can't honestly expect S-Scrimgeour –"

"Of course not!" Hermione said dismissively. "But when we win this war, the three of us will have a load of power. We could make the entire government change if they thought it would please us, the heroes of the Wizarding World! We could get Squibs representation, benefits, better job opportunities! And who knows – maybe by the time our grandchildren are going to Hogwarts, there'll be a Squib or two joining them!"

"We could make this a better place for you, Rissie," Harry said, squeezing my hand as he looked straight into my eyes. "After all you've been through, you deserve it!"

More than anything else, that last phrase got me. I immediately flung my arms around Harry's neck to hide the fact that I was bawling my eyes out, but I knew they'd be able to hear me.

I was surprised when I felt two more pairs of arms wrap around me: a pair of slender, warm, feminine arms and a pair of stocky, muscular, male arms. It was Ron and Hermione, offering me their support and love, which only made me cry even more. I heard the door close and knew that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were giving the four of us some privacy.

I didn't know what would happen when we stepped through that door and into the real world again, but I knew right then that if these three were with me, or at least on my side, everything would be alright.


	7. They Are Coming

He-LLO! Welcome, my darling readers! Thank you to laissankari, Stephanied473, and Maiannaise for their awesome reviews! I love you wonderful people and hope you inspire your fellow readers to send me reviews as well! I know this chapter is quite a bit shorter than the last one, but I couldn't think of a better spot to stop this chapter, especially since J.K. Rowling stopped there in the book. Please read and review! Enjoy!

-Owlix

**Chapter Seven: ****They Are Coming**

Going back to the party after Scrimgeour left was a bit awkward since everyone wanted to know what had happened and our inheritances were passed around the table, but we soon got over it and had a decent time. After a while, we all knew the party was long over and cleaned everything up before heading to bed. I watched Harry whisper something to Hermione, but I refused to listen in. Later on that night, I noticed Hermione leave in the middle of the night, but again, I refused to question it. Part of the talk Harry and I had before about his leaving was that I specifically ignore anything the three of them do that seemed out of place; Harry reasoned that the less I knew, the safer I'd be.

The next day was The Big Day – Bill and Fleur's wedding! I'll admit I was pretty excited, but I'd never been to a wedding before so I didn't know what to expect. Hermione, Ginny, and I spent the day helping Mrs. Weasley, Fleur, and Madame Delacour get everything where it needed to be. The two mothers were, understandably, emotional wrecks, but Fleur was surprisingly unflappable.

"I am a quarter Veela," she told me when I asked her about it as I helped her into her dress. "Veelas mate for life – when zey find Ze One, zat is. Many magical creatures are ze same way – werewolves, vampires, mermaids, 'ippogriffs ... and Beel is Ze One for me!"

"You're very lucky, Fleur," I said quietly as I tied her sash.

"Why?" Fleur asked, turning around gracefully to look me in the eye. "Because I 'ave found Ze One and you do not sink you will find Ze One?"

I simply shook my head, knowing that if I spoke even a little, I'd cry and ruin my makeup.

I was surprised when Fleur took my face in her hands. She stared at me intensely for a moment before gently planting a kiss on my forehead.

"You _will_ find 'im, _cherie_!" she said fervently. "It weel take a while, but 'e is waiting for you. I can _feel_ it!"

Trying to not get too convinced, I simply gave her a smile and a nod of thanks. She sighed a little but smiled back and kissed my cheeks.

"Now," she said crisply, "let's get zis tiara on me before ze _awful_ Muriel shows up again ..."

"I have no problem with that!" I said, giggling slightly as I hurried to fetch the moonstone-studded tiara from where it had been placed earlier. Muriel Prewett was truly was an awful woman – constantly badgering and sniping at everyone, putting everyone down, and _never shutting up_! I'd had to almost literally kick her out before she and Fleur came to blows over how to wear the darn tiara! Besides, she had no right to tell someone how bad they looked when she herself resembled a bad-tempered flamingo in that appalling pink feathered hat!

Around three-thirty, Hermione and I had taken care of all our responsibilities and changed into our dress robes. She wore a rather daring red chiffon ruffle dress while I wore a sleek gold-and-green silk organza number. After I'd helped her with her makeup and done mine, she offered to help with my hair. She sleeked it all back and pinned it in a tight bun at the base of my skull. After adding a jewelled choker laced with protection charms and some magical earrings that would help me hear properly, I was ready to face the guns. Hermione and I walked out arm-in-arm, smiling as we were met with rather astonished looks.

"Wow ..." Ron gasped, blinking rapidly as we walked up. "You look great!"

"Always the tone of surprise," Hermione smirked, knowing Ron's gaze was all for her. "Your Great-Aunt Muriel doesn't agree, I just met her upstairs while she was giving Fleur the tiara. She said, 'Oh dear, is this the Muggle-born?' and then, 'Bad posture and skinny ankles.'"

"She said I looked with a leopard with all my 'spots,'" I chuckled, gesturing to my many freckles.

Fred and George came over and started commiserating with us about how batty Muriel was and talking about their late Uncle Bilius. They made us laugh so hard that we didn't see Viktor Krum until he was literally right next to us.

"You look vunderful," he said to Hermione, his dark eyes soft and warm as he looked at her.

"Viktor!" she shrieked, dropping the dark-colored beaded bag she'd taken out with her. I noticed the sound it made when it landed was quite disproportionate to its size but ignored it in favour of giving Viktor a warm welcome. Harry and I offered to show him to his seat to avoid Ron having a temper tantrum in front of the guests.

"Your friend is not pleased to see me," Krum said lowly. "Or is he a relative?" he asked, noting the red hair Harry and I both shared. It was part of Harry's disguise to change him into a rather portly redhead and pass him off as a Weasley cousin named Barney.

"Distant cousin," I said, remembering that Ron actually was third cousin to Harry and me through our paternal grandmother, Dorea Black. I'd done a bit of genealogical research into the Potter line at Grimmauld Place last Christmas and found quite a lot of fun information.

While others in the crowd were vying for a closer look at the famous Quidditch player, Harry and I were rescued by Fred, George, Ron, and Hermione.

"Time to sit down," Fred said.

"Or we're going to get run over by the bride," George quipped, making Harry and me grin as we took our seats in the second row behind the Weasley family.

A few minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came up the aisle, waving to family members. They were followed by the dapper-looking pair of Bill and Charlie, who were wearing dress robes with large white roses in the button holes. I winced slightly at the sight of the roses; I'd been taught that white roses symbolized "a heart devoid of love", which was definitely not a good theme for a wedding.

"Oooooh!" Hermione gasped, having spun around in her seat to see the bride coming in.

Fleur looked absolutely stunning in her _very_ simple white dress and goblin-made tiara. The silvery glow that normally surrounded her was much stronger today, and instead of making everyone look more common, it made everyone look more beautiful. As she passed us, Hermione's hair looked sleeker and shinier and her eyes glowed with delight. When Fleur reached Bill, it almost seemed as if he'd never gotten mauled by Fenrir Greyback.

The ceremony itself was quite beautiful, but certain phrases – like "bonded for life", for example – rubbed me up the wrong way, probably because I was used to hearing about Muggle wedding ceremonies. I'd have to do some serious research if I ever decided to get married.

As the man directing the ceremony waved his wand over the newlyweds, silver sparks erupted from his wand and spiralled around their entwined fingers, magically binding them together. As Fred and George applauded, the golden balloons above Bill and Fleur burst, revealing birds of paradise and tiny golden bells that sang the twins' congratulations on the new couple.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" the tufty-haired wizard called. "If you would please stand up!"

When we did so, he waved his wand again, making the seats hover and the canvas walls of the marquee vanish. With another wave, a molten-gold dance floor appeared, followed by tables that were quickly surrounded by the previously-hovering chairs.

"Smooth," Ron said approvingly as the waiters popped in, offering pumpkin juice, butterbeer, firewhiskey, tarts, and sandwiches. Not wanting to spoil anything, I took a small glass of pumpkin juice and sipped carefully as Harry and I tried to find a seat with Ron and Hermione. We found one next to Luna, who left as soon as she heard a song she liked. Ron and Hermione soon followed her to dance together, and I was pleasantly surprised when a friendly cousin of Fleur's asked me to dance. He introduced himself as Henri (he pronounced it "on-REE") and he was actually quite charming, at first. As the dance wore on, though, he became quite full of himself and horribly arrogant. I managed to step on his toes quite a lot over the course of that one dance – by accident, of course.

After that disaster, I danced with Viktor (who was quiet but kind, telling me that I looked lovely), Fred and George (who insisted on dancing with me at the same time), Charlie (who kept asking me if my skirt was Common Welsh Green hide), and Hagrid (who had me stand on his feet to dance with him). I wanted to go and ask Harry for a dance, but one, he was technically supposed to be hiding, and two, he'd told me before that he _hated_ dancing because he felt he looked like a fool. I wasn't terribly good at dancing, either, due to a slight rhythm problem, but I could still follow a guy's lead and have a good time! After a while, I noticed he was looking quite pale and went to sit down next to him.

"I simply can't dance anymore," I groaned, slipping off one of my shoes to rub my foot. "It's a bit odd, I've just seen Viktor storming away from Luna's father, it looked like they'd been arguing ... are you okay, Harry? You don't look too good."

Harry looked up at me and flinched slightly, as if he was reminded of something awful.

"Harry?" I asked quietly, taking my twin's hand.

Harry squeezed my hand tightly before blurting out, "Dumbledore had a Squib sister ... and they locked her up in the cellar!"

I felt a horrible chill run down my spine as I gaped at Harry.

"Muriel said Squibs were normally shipped off to Muggle schools," Harry said, sounding like he was choking on something, "but Dumbledore's mum was too proud to send Ariana away. She never left the house until the day of her funeral, Rissie!"

I said nothing, simply clutching Harry's hands for dear life as I leaned my forehead against his and tried to not cry at the idea of an innocent girl being locked in a cellar and subjected to who-knows-what additional abuse. I couldn't believe Dumbledore allowed that kind of cruelty to happen to his own sister, but at the same time, it would definitely explain how he refused to help Harry and me. During his visit to Privet Drive last summer, he'd lectured the Dursleys on how they'd treated Harry and me, all but admitting that he at least had an idea of what we were going through and risked disciplinary action by not doing anything about it. Granted, there's no law in England _requiring_ him to do anything like there is in America, but since he works with kids, he has a responsibility for keeping _all_ of his students safe and _should_ be reporting any concern!

I was shaken out of my melancholy thoughts by a familiar streak of silvery-white light falling through the canopy over the dance floor. It took the graceful form of a lynx, which landed in the midst of the crowd and spoke loudly in Kingsley Shacklebolt's slow, deep voice.

"The Ministry has fallen," it said.

...

"Scrimgeour is dead," it continued.

...

...

"They are coming."


	8. My Betrayal

Hey guys! I'm SO sorry I couldn't update yesterday, but my cousin came into town all the way from California and work started earlier than normal, so I couldn't finish in time to update! I hope everyone enjoys this update - we're one step closer to the actual moment when the Harry Potter universe crosses over to the Twilight universe! Edward is coming soon, I promise! Special thanks to my reviewers - dream lighting, Maiannaise, laissankari, and Stephanied473 - you make me so very happy! Thank you all!

-Owlix

**Chapter Eight:**** My Betrayal**

For a few moments after the Patronus faded, everyone started to panic. Some had the presence of mind to Apparate away as quickly as possible, but most were bustling around like distressed chickens ... that is, until the Death Eaters showed up.

Harry immediately pushed me under the table and hurried away, probably to find Ron and Hermione. I huddled under that table and shivered as the sound of screams and hexes washed over me. I longed to rip off my earrings to block out the sounds, but I knew that would be a death sentence for me. I jumped when I heard a body land heavily beside the table. Aching to see but not willing to risk being seen, I watched the shadow of a person stalking around the table.

All of a sudden, I heard Harry's voice calling my name and Remus's voice telling him to go as the person stalking my table suddenly disappeared. Unable to bear not saying goodbye to Harry, I burst from under the table and raced toward him, calling out to him even as Remus held me back. When Harry looked over to me, I tearfully held up my hand in the classic sign for "I love you". He smiled and returned the sign before taking Hermione's hand and Apparating away.

I felt almost as if something had been ripped away from me as I stared at the place where my twin had just stood. I could barely breathe, tears were blurring my sight, and I could feel my entire body trembling. If it hadn't been for Remus's arms around me, I would have collapsed right then and there.

I was so scared for Harry, much more so than I'd ever been before. All the years before, we'd been able to stay in contact through weekly letters and occasional gifts. This year, however, we wouldn't be able to send a single word to each other. If we did, the Enemy would know where Harry was and what I was to him, both of which were top-secret information as far as we were concerned. I would have to trust that Harry's instincts, Hermione's knowledge, and Ron's loyalty would be enough to bring him back to me someday.

I was shocked back into reality by Remus raising his wand and shooting a Death Eater right in the face.

"Find the twins!" he said, almost shouting to be heard over everything. "They'll keep you safe!"

I nodded and hurried over to a nearby table to hide behind while I tried to locate Fred and George, knowing that if I stood out in the open, I'd be a sitting duck. I finally found them across the tent, duelling a pair of rather vicious-looking Death Eaters. I knew I had to help them, so I put my fears aside and looked around for _something_ I could use as a weapon. I found the remains a chair that Hagrid had sat upon earlier that day and saw that the legs were just long enough to act as makeshift baseball bats.

After finding the one that fit best in my hands, I darted from table to table to get to the twins, ducking whenever spells came shooting my way. I didn't know who was firing them or what they'd do, so I wasn't taking any chances. Finally, I got to the twins, who had managed to defeat one of the Death Eaters and were trying to finish off the second. I snuck up behind the Death Eater, "bat" raised above my head, and took the opportune moment, striking the Death Eater across the back of the head. He toppled like a fallen tree, leaving me with the twins, who stared at me for a moment before nodding in gratitude.

The next few minutes consisted of trying to not die, trying to not get hit by Death Eaters, trying to not die, trying to get away, trying to not die, trying to keep each other safe, and – what was it? Oh yeah! – trying to _not die!_ It was absolute chaos with spells flying around, the tent burning down around us, and people trying and failing to Apparate away. I assumed there was some sort of spell keeping people from leaving. By the end of the battle, all of the Order's supporters were bunched together in the middle of the dance floor with Death Eaters surrounding us. I shivered in fear behind George, who had made it his personal job to keep my safe while Harry couldn't.

For a long moment, spells stopped flying but wands were still held at the ready. Then, a tall skinny man in Ministry robes stepped forward and spoke with a loud, authoritative voice.

"We are searching for Harry Potter," he declared, "in order to question him about the death of Albus Dumbledore. Give him up now, and you will not be harmed. You will be free to go about your lives as if this never happened!"

I couldn't breathe as I huddled a bit lower behind George. The only reason they would want to question Harry about Dumbledore's death would be if they thought he had something to do with it! They thought Harry killed Dumbledore and blamed Snape to cover it up! If they found out I was here, I would be first on their list to "question".

No one said anything to the Ministry man; they gave each other a few wary or horrified glances, but no one said a word. The Ministry man sighed and turned to his colleagues.

"Have at them," he said, waving his hand at us dismissively. "Get whatever you can out of them, however you can."

Everyone tried to back up as the Death Eaters closed in. George actually shoved me further back into the crowd to keep me hidden, and the others behind him followed his lead, finally forcing me into the centre of the crowd along with some of the other women and children. I made myself as small as I possibly could without being too obvious about it, hunching my shoulders and bowing my head and even crouching slightly.

I felt like the world's biggest coward, watching people get dragged off to who-knows-where to get who-knows-what done to them to extract information. However, there was absolutely nothing I could do! I didn't know where Harry was or what he was doing so I couldn't blab, and I didn't have any magic so I couldn't fight back.

Over the next few hours, I could hear Death Eaters shouting questions, wedding guests screaming their answers back, and the worried whispers of those who were still waiting to be questions. The group was slowly getting smaller and smaller, and I was trying everything I could think of to keep from being seen.

Finally, after almost five hours, I couldn't hide any longer. I'd been slowly inching towards what I thought was the back of the group, but I'd essentially gone through the group and was on the other side, ripe for the choosing. The next thing I knew, someone had a vicious grip on my hair and was dragging me backwards. I let out a shriek and began fighting, drawing the attention of Bill and Fleur, who were still waiting. I turned back slightly when I heard them calling to me. Bill's face was chalky white while Fleur's was furiously pink as they fought through the crowd to get to me. Once they were at the edge, they were met by other Death Eaters who held them back as I was dragged farther and farther away from them, shrieking and fighting the whole way.

I soon found myself thrown against the Weasley's dining room table. I hit the right side of my head on the edge of the table, the blow knocking off one of my special earrings. I hurried through the daze and pain to find it and put it back on, but the Death Eater who had taken me captive stood on my rightt hand, crushing my fingers under his boot.

"Where is Potter?" he asked me, his clipped Scottish accent making his voice hard and cruel. "Where is he?!"

"N-Not here!" I cried. "I don't know where he is!"

"LIAR!" the man screamed, slapping me across the face and nearly knocking my other earring off. "Someone here knows where he is! Tell me!"

"I CAN'T!" I shrieked, terrified that he wouldn't listen and kill me trying to get the answers he needed. "He wouldn't tell anyone! He knew we'd be questioned, so he never said anything! I swear, that's all I know!"

The Death Eater took a step back, seeming to peer at me very closely.

"What's your name, girl?" he demanded.

Not wanting to give them my real name, I spouted out the first name I could think of.

"L-Lily Evans."

The man's posture went from authoritative to _very _alert.

"MULCIBER!"

I flinched as he yelled but stayed very still as another Death Eater came in. While the first Death Eater was rather muscular and straight-backed, this one was much rangier and almost spindly looking in his black robes. It was like seeing a spider stand next to a panther, and since both were predators, neither prospect was terribly good for me.

"You know the name 'Lily Evans', do you not, Mulciber?" the first Death Eater asked.

"Oh aye, Yaxley!" Mulciber wheezed. "I knew her! Quite the firecracker, she was! Unfortunately she was not only a Mudblood, but a ginger too!"

I felt a small rush of anger at their talk about my mother, but this was not the time to get all noble. I'd find a way to avenge Mum later.

"Is this her?" Yaxley asked, gesturing dismissively at me.

Mulciber seemed to barely glance at me.

"Oh no, she's ... hang on."

I crept back against the table, trying to stay as far away from that insect as I could. I tried to turn my face away, but Mulciber reached out with surprising speed and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

"She does look a bit like her," Mulciber said slowly, "but there's someone else in there ... someone I know I've seen before. Can't tell who, though." He let go of my chin and stepped back toward Yaxley. "D'you think we should risk it?" he asked.

Yaxley shrugged. "They said get whatever we can, however we can. I don't think they'll care if you do that this one time."

Mulciber let out this high-pitched chuckle that almost seemed to go through his nose (AN: think Rumpelstiltskin's laugh in "Once Upon a Time") and danced over to me, his wand twirling gaily in his hand. You'd think he was about to give me a makeover or something, he looked and sounded so ridiculous! If it wasn't for the situation, I'd be laughing at the ... femininity Mulciber was showing.

All that gaiety went away when he pointed his wand at me and sang, "Imperio!"

My world faded away until there was nothing but a warm mist surrounding and supporting me. I felt totally safe and euphoric, like nothing could harm me at all. I heard a voice call out to me.

'_Tell us_,' it said in a friendly voice. '_Tell us who you are, and everything you know about where Potter went._'

Almost against my will, my mouth opened and my tongue began to move. I heard my own voice sell me out, telling them my full name, my blood status, my parents' names, my brother's name, the fact that Harry had been at the wedding in disguise but was no longer there, when Harry had left, who Harry had disappeared with, and all the places I think he might have gone for refuge, including Grimmauld Place! When I indicated that I'd told them everything I knew, the mist faded and was replaced by a slap of cold, hard reality.

I'd just betrayed my brother!

I quickly clapped my hands over my mouth and shook as I watched Mulciber and Yaxley talk. Mulciber left after a while, leaving me with Yaxley.

"Well, well ..." he purred in satisfaction. "Potter's sister, are ye? Our Master ... will be very pleased to hear of that!"

My heart plummeted into the floor as that sunk in. I shook my head as emphatically as I could, silently pleading him to not take me to Voldemort. I wouldn't survive a whole day with that viper!

Yaxley reached out and grabbed my hair again, dragging me outside as I began to shriek again. I was even more desperate to get away this time, so I began to kick and scratch and even bite Yaxley as he stoically forced me back to the tent. Yaxley finally made me stop by punching me in the stomach as hard as he could, making me gasp and retch as vomit rained all over his trousers and boots. The sick vanished with a wave of his wand and he continued on his single-minded quest to get me to his Master.

When he got to the tent, it was full of chaos. Fleur seemed to have gone almost full Veela in her attempt to get to me, her arms covered in scaly-looking feathers and her once-supple lips forming a cruel beak as she screeched at the Death Eaters and clawed at them to get through them. Other witches and wizards seemed to have been inspired by her attack and were trying to hex other Death Eaters to pieces in a mad attempt to escape.

"SILENCE!" Yaxley bellowed as he shot off gun-like blasts from his wand.

"Gentlemen," he continued when silence had fallen over the crowd, "our work here is done. Harry Potter is not here, but his _sister_ is!"

Bill and Fleur stared at me in horror as Yaxley's declaration swept over them. I mouthed out the name "Mulciber" to Bill, knowing that he would understand and tell the other members of the Order once he saw them again. He was still chalky, but his blue eyes turned steely with resolve as he nodded at me in understanding.

"We will take her to our Master," Yaxley continued over the shouts of horror and denial from the crowd, "and hold her until Potter comes for her! Or, well ... whatever remains of her." He began to laugh a horrible laugh that the Death Eaters picked up. One in particular came up to us, moving in a jerky way like that of a scorpion.

"I'd like ta play with 'er a little," he leered gruffly. "Just a little ..."

"She is for the Dark Lord first, Macnair!" Yaxley growled, pointing his wand right at Macnair's throat. "If He deigns you worthy, He will let you play with His new half-blood toy!"

"You cannot take 'er!" Fleur cried, rushing forward to try and grab me, but Yaxley sent a hex her way that knocked her across the tent.

"No, Fleur!" I shrieked. "_C'est bien! Prenez soin de mon frère, ne vous inquiétez pas pour moi! Il suffit d'apporter que visqueux, limace sans nez vers le bas, comprendre?!_ " (That translates roughly to: "It's alright! Take care of my brother, don't worry about me! Just bring that slimy, noseless slug down, understand?!")

Fleur looked over at me and slowly nodded through teary blue eyes as Bill helped her up. Yaxley surveyed the crowd a bit longer before turning to the others.

"Meet me at Headquarters," he growled. He nodded at the Ministry man, who looked rather peaky, and barked a quick "Cheerio" before turning away.

I don't know why I did it, but something in me couldn't allow that I be taken without a fight. I gave Yaxley one well-aimed kick between his legs and ripped my hair out of his hand the moment he went down. I tried to run as fast as I could toward the edge of the property, but I was slammed from behind by something before I got twenty feet from the tent. I lay in the dust, twitching as I fought to get up before the Death Eaters caught up to me.

"Try ta run away, will ya?" I heard Macnair growl. "Well, 'ere's what I 'ave to say about _that_!"

Before I could react, something long and wooden began raining blows on my back and legs. I tried to curl up and hide my head, but Macnair was hitting me so hard and fast that it was almost impossible to defend myself. I soon felt others join in on the beating while Fleur and other women screeched and begged for mercy in the tent.

Finally, one well-aimed blow to the head knocked me for such a spin that I couldn't hold on any longer. Gasping an apology, I fell down into the deep, dark sea of sweet oblivion and let unconsciousness take hold.


	9. Questions and Answers

Hi, fellow Fanfiction-ers! We're one step closer to the meeting with Edward! I want to thank Maiannaise, Stephanied473, and ColossalSpaz for their fantastic reviews! I'm so glad you guys like my stories enough to actually let me know! OK, so this chapter is a little horrible in terms of Rissie's treatment, but she gets out pretty quickly, thank goodness! I wonder if anyone can guess who saves her - please try and guess, I want to see how obvious it was! I think it's obvious, but I don't know how obvious it is to others. Please read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!

-Owlix

**Chapter Nine: ****Questions and Answers**

General POV:

Far away from the comfort and familiarity of the Burrow, a girl shivered in fear and pain as she rocked back and forth in the dark, dank cellar of Malfoy Manor. Her once brilliant green and gold dress was now reduced to bloodied, dirt-covered rags after nearly two weeks of torture. All but one piece of jewellery had been removed – a single emerald and diamond earring that hung in her left ear which allowed the mostly-deaf girl to hear the questions sent her way by the Death Eaters and, occasionally, the Dark Lord. Her lush red and golden locks were lank and filthy, covered in sweat as well as dirt and blood. Her bruised and swollen hazel-green eyes were bright with fever and the madness of paranoid fear. Her lips were chapped and split in some places, and they were mouthing two words: "drip" and "drop".

You see, she was painstakingly watching a puddle nearby as drops of water from the ceiling fell into it. With each ripple, she would either say "drip" or "drop", alternating between the two. She wasn't quite mad yet, but the prisoners around her knew that she wouldn't last much longer. She'd actually lasted much longer than they'd originally thought, but they all knew her time was coming to a close. If Harry Potter didn't come within the next few days, he would come to find his sister's lifeless body bloodied and mangled by some of the most horrific tortures the normal Death Eaters could think of. Thankfully, Bellatrix Lestrange hadn't gotten her claws into the girl yet; that would kill the poor thing for sure!

The poor girl was so withdrawn into her own world of "drip-drop" that she didn't realize someone was watching her. He'd stayed behind when the others had left her behind an hour ago, hidden in the darkest corner he could find. His dark eyes, normally cold and calculating, were full of pain and guilt as he stared at the mostly-mad girl on the floor.

He took in her appearance and remembered how she had looked when he'd first met her, the night of the Third Triwizard Tournament Task. She'd looked so much like her mother, staring in wonder at everything around her, that his very bones had ached with the sense of loss that lanced through him. When he'd first introduced himself to her, she'd seemed to have instantly recognized him, no doubt from her brother's letters. She'd been quite polite but almost frigidly cool, a quiet bite hidden just on the edge of her smile. She would have made an excellent Slytherin, he'd thought with a small jolt of pride. Wouldn't that have been shocking?

Now, however, all he could see was a broken doll, smashed and torn and thrown around until there was almost nothing left in her. He knew she wouldn't last much longer, but he also knew that he couldn't get her out of there alone.

With a quiet, decisive snap, he summoned the house-elf that had once answered to his mother's family. As the last remaining member of that house, the elf now belonged to him and had for the past twenty years, since his mother's death.

"Bobbin lives to serve, Master," the middle-aged elf rumbled.

"Retrieve some pain potions for me," the man demanded. "The strongest ones in my stores. Immediately!"

Bobbin bowed and Disapparated. A moment later, he was back with four potions clutched in his slightly wrinkled hands.

"Keep an eye out for the others, Bobbin," the man ordered as he took the potions from the elf. "If someone comes, take us both out of here!"

"Very good, Master," Bobbin said, taking his post in the shadow right next to the door to the cellar.

The man quickly and quietly crouched beside the girl, knowing he would have to be very careful. Thinking quickly, he threw a hood over his head to hide his face, hoping she wouldn't recognize his voice.

"Iris," he called gently. Surprisingly, the girl didn't respond. The man racked his brain for another name to call her and then remembered the nickname her brother gave her.

"Rissie."

The sounds of "drip" and "drop" were silenced as the girl turned her head at an achingly slow pace to look up at the man.

"Y-You ..." she gasped through her scream-ravaged throat. "You've come ... t-to set me ... f-free. I'm ... g-going ... h-home ...?"

"Not just yet, Rissie," the man said quietly. "I need to take away your pain first."

"OK," Rissie said softly. The man was surprised she was so submissive, but shoved that aside as he forced her to drink an entire vial of the pain potion. It was slow going due to the slight nausea Rissie felt while drinking the potion, but the man managed to get it all down her throat, not a single drop wasted.

"Alright," he said finally. "I'm going to take you to the edge of the British Isles before giving you another potion. Can you hold on that long?"

"Yes," Rissie said quietly as she slumped into the man's embrace, exhausted almost to the point of unconsciousness.

The man tightened his grip on Rissie to keep her steady before calling to Bobbin.

"The westernmost end of Tearaght Island, Bobbin."

"Yes, Master."

Two cracks later, the man was kneeling on a crag near a lighthouse on the westernmost point in the British Isles. After dismissing Bobbin, he looked down to check on Rissie and found her shivering in pain. He forced her to drink one and a half more vials, knowing this was only the first leg of the journey. This was the difficult part – Apparating more than four thousand kilometres over the ocean with a dangerously injured girl in his arms. He would have asked Bobbin for more assistance, but Bobbin had never been outside Great Britain so he would have no idea where to go. Gathering his strength and focus, the man pictured an alleyway just off of Times Square that he'd Apparated from before.

With two more cracks, he was there and Rissie was still in pain but had gone into a coma to escape from it. The man swore blackly under his breath, trying to ignore the growing stirs of panic in his heart; he knew that if he didn't get her strength up, Rissie wouldn't survive the next Apparition. Thinking quickly, he took out a small vial of potion, one that was normally used as a general pick-me-up, and poured the contents down Rissie's throat, massaging her neck to make sure she swallowed.

He waited for about fifteen minutes to make sure the potion had taken effect, and when he could see some healthy colour in Rissie's cheeks, made her drink the other vial-and-a-half of pain potion. When he was almost certain he wouldn't be holding a corpse when he came to his next location, he Apparated ...

... And reappeared in front of a hospital in a small town called Forks, Washington.

Rissie's POV:

I couldn't quite say what woke me up at first, but the first thing I was consciously aware of was someone rolling me over and pulling the sheets off of me. The new sheets were warm and smelled fresh, like they had just come out of the dryer. I curled up a little and breathed in the scent of clean laundry, running the back of my fingers over the slightly scratchy sheets.

That seemed to alert whoever was changing my sheets that I was mostly conscious because the sheet-changing paused. A few moments later, I felt someone shake my shoulder. I opened my eyes and saw a woman with russet-coloured skin, true-black hair pulled back in a ponytail, and worried eyes that were the deepest black I'd ever seen. She was wearing dark blue scrubs; was she a nurse? Was I in hospital? How did I get here?

I saw her lips move as she spoke to someone, but I barely hear her! Fighting off a growing sense of panic, I reached up and felt around my ears. No hearing aids and no magical earrings! I was now almost completely deaf, and I didn't doubt the events of the past two weeks had contributed to my condition.

For some reason, the panic didn't seem to go away when I confirmed my deafness. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse. Yes, I couldn't hear, but I could tell I was in a hospital. I was safe! Why wouldn't my heart stop beating so fast? Why couldn't I breathe properly? What was happening?!

The woman's face became almost resolute as she stared at me. She began to walk away, but for some reason, I couldn't let her go. When I was alone, the Death Eaters came and hurt me! I couldn't be alone! I grabbed her hand and tried talking to her, but I couldn't get a sense of what I was saying. I tried grabbing my throat so I could feel myself talking and focused on making my lips and tongue move properly, but I couldn't seem to make much sense, even to myself. I needed her to stay – what was wrong with me?! Why couldn't I tell her?!

I saw the woman move her lips again as she talked to someone else in the room. I focused on her lips to try and see what she was saying. I saw what I think was "calm her down", but I didn't have a lot of practice reading lips. But I did know sign language! Maybe I could use that to talk to her!

Given a small dose of clarity by my realization, I reached out and shook her arm to get her attention. When she was looking at me, I made the sign for "Help me!", which was holding my right hand as a fist vertically on the palm of my left hand and bringing my hands toward me. When she looked confused, I did it again, this time mouthing out the words "Help me!"

I saw it in her eyes when she understood. She held up her pointer finger in an almost universal sign to ask for one moment before grabbing a pen and scribbling pad. After scribbling on it for a moment, she handed it to me.

'What's wrong?' she'd written.

I scribbled my answer as fast as I could and handed the pad back to her.

'Heart going too fast. Breathing too fast. Won't stop!'

I saw her eyebrows rise as she read my answer, but to her credit, she stayed calm. She nodded at me and picked up a syringe. I pointed at the syringe and lifted my hands to push down slightly at the air, like I was trying to pet an imaginary animal. I mouthed out the words "calm down" as I did so to help her translate. She nodded and put the end of the needle against the tube linking the saline water to me, telling me that she was going to put the medicine in me that way. I nodded frantically and signed "please" over and over again, placing my hands palm to palm horizontally and sweeping my top hand up toward me. She seemed to get the message; she got that syringe empty faster than I'd anticipated.

I sighed and leaned back into the pillows, trying to take deep breaths as the medicine worked its magic. It didn't seem to happen as fast as I would like, but eventually I could breathe slowly enough to not pass out. Once that was taken care of, I could logically think about my situation without my body shutting down on me again. The woman used that time to finish making my bed; I could feel her pulling on the sheets beneath me as I stared up at the ceiling.

I looked over at her when I felt her pat my arm. She raised her right hand and drew a cross on her left arm with her index and middle finger. Trying to ignore the two fingers she had up, I drew the same sign with my thumb. Her head leaned to the side slightly and shook as she drew the sign again, as if insisting that her way of signing was right. I frowned and shook my head firmly before pantomiming writing on a pad and holding my hand out. She handed me the pad and allowed me to write on it.

'I'm British,' I wrote. 'We use our thumb to sign "hospital."'

She blinked when she read my answer, but before she could respond, someone came into the room. I couldn't help from gaping slightly at the man who had come in. He was almost two metres tall with a flawlessly alabaster complexion, perfectly coiffed blonde hair, and warm golden eyes. I actually looked at his back as he turned to talk to the woman, to see if he had wings hiding under that white coat. I couldn't see anything, but it was loose enough where it could hide wings if they were held tightly against his back.

I snapped back to reality when I saw the woman leave. Before I could start to panic again, the doctor turned to smile at me. I was frustrated when I felt my face burn a little; this guy was old enough to be my father!

"_Hello, miss,_" he signed – in British Sign Language! "_I'm Doctor Cullen. __I'm the chief doctor here._"

"_Hello, Doctor,_" I signed back, giving him a smile. "_I'm Iris. __My friends call me 'Rissie.'_"

"_It's nice to meet you, Rissie,_" Dr. Cullen said with a smile. "_I'm sure you have some questions for me._"

"_Yes,_" I signed emphatically. "_For starters, where am I, and how did I get here?_"

"_What's the last thing you remember?_" Dr. Cullen asked.

I frowned and gathered my tattered memories before communicating what I could.

"_I was in a dark room made of stone – a cellar, I think. __I hurt all over; still do, matter of fact. __Someone came up to me. __It was a man in a long dark cloak with the hood pulled up. __He gave me something that made the pain stop a bit. __There was wind and ... I could smell the ocean, but that's about it._"

Dr. Cullen nodded before explaining. "_That man was an old friend of mine from medical school. __He was aware of your situation and decided to help you. __He managed to Apparate the pair of you here, where I could heal you and keep you out of trouble. __Yes, I know about Apparition and those who can do it,_" he added, noting my expression of amazement. "_As to where you are, you're in Forks, Washington, in America. __You're pretty much as far as you can get from England without losing English._"

"_Who saved me?_" I asked.

To my surprise, and frustration, Dr. Cullen shook his head.

"_He asked me to not tell you,_" he said apologetically. "_He's part of the group that hurt you and wants to stay as anonymous as possible for now. __When the time is right, he'll make himself known to you. __In the meantime, he arranged for some personal effects of yours to be returned. __I'll bring them up as soon as you're feeling closer to one hundred percent._"

"_Why not now?_" I asked, not noticing my hands fumbling a little.

"_Because you've just been rescued from one of the most brutal torture sessions I've ever seen. Your body is using up all of its energy to heal the damage that has been done to it. You won't be able to stay awake long enough to see everything he's sent to you. __You need to be able to stay awake for more than an hour before I can feel comfortable with showing you what I have._

"_And sp__eaking of staying awake, you're about to fail at that,_" he quipped, smirking a little as he saw how tired I was. "_I'll stay until you fall asleep. __Rest, Rissie. __You're safe here._"

As I felt my body obeying his request, I couldn't help thinking I was only safe for now. If I was found, I would never see the light of day again. To avoid that and stay alive long enough to find Harry, I would need to leave as soon as possible, with or without the doctor's approval.


	10. Letters and Memories

Hello, lovelies! The big confession from Carlisle has come! How will Rissie take it? Will she freak out or will she let Carlisle explain? For all those who have read my other story, "I Believe You", I have NOT abandoned that story! I'm just feeling more inspiration for this story right now. Thank you, dream lighting, for that review - it made me laugh! Please spread the word and show everyone this story! To everyone else, please read, enjoy, and review! Thanks!

-Owlix

**Chapter Nine: ****Letters and Memories**

Over the next week, I spent most of my time sleeping, eating, and talking with Dr. Cullen. I liked him, but he was rather confusing to me at times. He was always kind to me, no matter how rude I was to him. He always tried to understand my point of view without making me feel like a laboratory specimen. There were even times where I actually cried in front of him, which I never did to anyone else apart from my family back in England.

To me, the most confusing part of him was the fact that he never told me much about him beside the most general pieces of information. All he was willing to tell me was that he was a doctor, he was married to a very lovely woman, and he and his wife had adopted two girls and three boys since his wife was unable to have children of her own. The information about how he gave five children a loving family of their own definitely endeared him to me, but he wouldn't tell me anything more than their names: Esme, Edward, Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, and Jasper. I understood the desire for privacy, but I wanted to know more about this man who seemed to have attached himself to me. I asked a couple of the nurses if he normally spent so much time with his other patients, but they told me that he seemed to have all but adopted me.

After a week, Dr. Cullen declared me strong enough to receive my effects. He brought them into the room wrapped in bubble-wrap and cardboard, very carefully tearing the cardboard open before setting the box on my lap. I slowly unwrapped the bubble-wrap, trying to ignore my shaking hands, until I was met with an amazing sight.

On my lap was the Pensieve, which was full of a few other things: most of my birthday presents! I gasped in delight as I picked up the book on Squibs from Hermione and the Agatha Christie book from the Delacours. Underneath them was the drawing pad and coloured pencils from the Lupins, which were set on top of the folded Chudley Cannons jacket from Ron and the hair ribbons from Bill and Fleur. I frowned a little when I didn't see any Weasley Wizarding Wheezes products, but I guessed they would raise too many questions here.

I looked up at Dr. Cullen and grinned, signing an emphatic "Thank you!" his way. He smiled warmly back at me and signed "You're welcome".

"_There's also a letter at the very bottom,_" he said. "_The man who brought you here wrote it before he left._"

I smiled and nodded, moving the jacket and ribbons to find a roll of parchment that had been wrapped around some sort of cylinder. After making sure Dr. Cullen had left to give me a little privacy, I untied the ribbon holding the parchment closed and unrolled it. It turned out to be a letter, as Dr. Cullen had said, and a large vial of a wispy-looking substance. I gasped at the sight of the memories. I set the letter down to examine the vial and found that it was labelled "What Rissie Needs to Know".

I forced the shaking in my hands to stop as I carefully set the vial down inside the Pensieve and picked up the letter. The handwriting was spidery and almost feminine, but I could read it. Taking a deep breath, I leaned back into the pillows and began to read.

Dear Miss Potter,

You do not truly know me, having officially met me only once, and I do not truly know you. However, I know that you are a vital player in this deadly game. Despite your lack of magical talent, you have an objective eye like nothing I have ever seen. You can see the big picture, rather than the narrow view the rest of us are burdened with. You have a way of making others see your way, a way that any politician would kill for. And you are very loyal to your beliefs and allies, which is why you have been slated for death by the Dark Lord. He knows he will never be able to sway you over to his side, so he plans on killing you in order to harm your brother.

This is something that must not happen! Your brother has joined this fight to protect you – if you die, he will be broken and vulnerable, easy pickings for the Dark Lord. That is why I have placed you with Carlisle. He has found a way to survive many centuries without making a large fuss in the communities he chooses to live in. He will help you stay under the radar, and he will prove to be one of the most valuable allies you will ever meet. He never forgets a friend or an enemy and will help you know which is which. He will protect you better than anyone in our world ever will.

The memories I have bequeathed to you are ones that you will need to see in order to understand why I have done what I have done. I warn you, I am ashamed of much of what you will see, and no doubt, you will be as well. I will retrieve the memories in one month to give you ample time to view the memories and come to a decision of whether or not to trust me and Carlisle. If you choose not to, we will both understand, and Carlisle will help you make your own way somewhere else.

Understanding is something you must keep close to you, Miss Potter, for without it, much of what will happen in this war will not make any sense, even after the endgame. I am trusting you with these, my precious memories, in the hopes that you will keep the objective eye you are well-known for and take everything into consideration. You are the mediator that our world will need after this war is over. Please look, see, and understand.

Yours truly,

The Phoenix Among the Serpents

P.S. – Whatever happens, do NOT speak the name of the Dark Lord out loud, and do not allow anyone else to make that mistake. The only clue I can give you as to why is this: "Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear."

I blinked in surprise at the sincerity of the letter. Whoever wrote it seemed almost desperate for me to understand what had happened and also halfway resigned to the idea that I might not accept his offer.

I sighed and looked down at the Pensieve, knowing that I wouldn't be able to view the memories here without worrying about an unsuspecting nurse walking in on me. I would have to wait until I was strong enough to get some privacy. Sighing in resignation, I put everything back into the Pensieve except for the drawing pad and coloured pencils. I hadn't drawn anything in ages, and now that my tools were within reach, my fingers almost ached to use them.

I spent the next hour drawing scene after scene: Bill and Fleur in their wedding clothes ... the wedding pavilion in all its glory ... the Death Eaters standing in a circle around a victim ... a frightened wounded girl trapped in a dark cellar ... the Dark Angel who had saved her ... and the Angel of Light who had healed her. Dr. Cullen came in when I was putting the finishing touches on his picture, making his doctor's jacket fade into large white wings that would have graced the back of any angel. I looked up when he tapped my knee.

"_That's very good!_" he signed, smiling as he pointed to the picture. "_You're quite talented!_"

I blushed and smiled before I remembered something the letter had mentioned. It had said that Dr. Cullen had survived _centuries_, which should have been impossible for any normal human or even a wizard, especially considering how young he still looked. I quickly grabbed the letter and pointed to the paragraph where the passage I'd remembered was. Dr. Cullen sighed when he read it and looked up at me, looking very apprehensive.

"_You can tell me_," I signed earnestly. "_I need to understand in order to truly trust you. __Whatever it is, I won't tell anyone! __Please, tell me!_"

Dr. Cullen looked down at the letter for a long while before taking a deep breath and nodding. He handed me the letter back and went over to the windows to pull the blinds.

"_I don't want anyone eavesdropping,_" he signed. "_Some people here are learning sign language for your sake and I don't want them to see something I sign and take it out of context._"

I nodded and gestured for him to sit down in the chair beside my bed, where he normally sat during our talks.

He looked up at me and stared for a long time before finally lifting his slightly trembling hands to sign one sentence that could change everything.

"_I'm a vampire._"

I blinked hard and almost gaped at him, but I forced myself to stay calm.

"_Explain, please,_" I signed, wanting to know everything.

"_I was born in England in the 1640s,_" Dr. Cullen signed. "_My father was an Anglican pastor, one who led many hunts for witches, vampires, werewolves, and the like. __Back then, people still believed all those creatures were real, and my father was good at filling people with a bloodlust I have rarely seen elsewhere. __He was quite ruthless, slaughtering many people using only circumstantial evidence to condemn them. __He expected me to follow in his footsteps, and for a while I did. __I didn't like the killing as much as my father did, and I sometimes found ways to set the so-called 'creatures' free._

_"__I was, however, quite good at seeing when I was dealing with true creatures. __I managed to find a coven living in the sewers of London. __The chaos that followed was the turning point of my life; I was attacked in the streets by a ragged and almost insane vampire, left bleeding when the crowd grew too close. __I somehow managed to hide myself for three days in a nearby potato cellar while I transformed._

_"__I knew what my father would do to me when he found me. __I was horrified and, frankly, disgusted with what I had become. __I became suicidal, trying everything from throwing myself off a cliff to drowning myself to starving myself. __My salvation came in the form of a herd of deer. __I was so thirsty that I drained them all, but I realized that I could survive off of animal blood. __I could still retain my humanity._

_"__I travelled through the centuries alone, desiring above all else for a companion to share my lifestyle with."_

_"__To not feel like the freak among the monsters, right?_" I signed, wanting to show him that I was listening.

He smiled and nodded.

"_I found my first son, Edward, in 1918. __I was helping in Chicago during the Spanish Influenza. __Yes,_" he said, noting my flinch, "_it wasn't pretty. __Many people died, including Edward's parents. __His mother had somehow seen or at least guessed what I was and all but demanded, on her deathbed, that I make Edward like me. __That I do what no one else could do for him. __Three years later, we found a young woman named Esme Anne Platt._"

I noticed his demeanour get much warmer, if that was even possible, when he spoke of Esme. Despite the fact that I had no idea what she was like, Dr. Cullen's loving smile made me smile along with him and hope that I would eventually get to meet her.

"_She'd ... just lost her baby,_" Dr. Cullen continued. "_They'd found her body at the base of a cliff, slightly alive. __I managed to hear her heartbeat and save her. __I'd met her when she was about your age, and somehow I never forgot her, never let her fade into the crowd of humans that I had met in the past. __Something about her always made her stand out to me. __It turns out that she was my soul-mate. __We married not long after I turned her. __It was one of the happiest days of my life._

_"__Rosalie and Emmett were turned by me in the thirties, two years apart, and they have been inseparable ever since. __Alice and Jasper came to us of their own accord in the fifties. __They'd already been practicing living our lifestyle and wanted to join us. __We were only delighted to let them._

_"__We've been living this way since then, moving every few years and finding new places to live, living new lives each time. __We've lived in Forks before, but we had to leave soon after we came here the first time. __We had some rough relations with the locals, unfortunately. __They'd dealt with our kind before and, despite the treaty we'd signed with them, didn't want to trust us._"

"_Well, they're stupid!_" I signed angrily. "_You're not a threat to them or any other human, so why would they not trust you?_"

Dr. Cullen smiled gratefully at me.

"_Thank you for your support. __It means a lot to me, and all of us._"

"_Will I get to meet them sometime?_" I asked.

Dr. Cullen considered the idea for a moment before nodding.

"_I'll bring them to you one at a time, to avoid overwhelming you._"

"_Can I ... Can I meet Esme first?_" I asked, feeling slightly embarrassed.

I saw Dr. Cullen chuckle before nodding.

"_She will be delighted to meet you. __Alice might get a little miffed that she didn't meet you first, though._"

I shrugged. "_Then I'll meet her after Esme. __Unless she'd prefer I make her wait until I've met everyone else,_" I added mischievously.

I was rewarded with Dr. Cullen's laugh. I couldn't hear it, but seeing his entire face light up with delight made me smile.

"_She'd walk all over everyone else to get to you if you did that,_" Dr. Cullen said, still chuckling. "_They'll like you,_" he said definitively. "_You'll see._"

"_Thanks_," I said, for once excited to meet new people. I don't know what it was about this family, but my normal shyness didn't seem to speak loudly enough to make me avoid them. While I was still a part of the war back in England, for the moment, I was free to live my own life and be who I truly was. That knowledge was strangely electrifying, at once thrilling and terrifying.

I was free.

Free from the Dursleys, free from the Death Eaters, free from Vol ... from the Dark Lord.

Free to be deaf, free to be an artist, free to be mischievous.

Free to be Rissie.

I didn't know what this new world would bring me, but I was free to choose how I fit into it. I would find a way to be who I was here, whether people liked it or not.

Look out, Forks! Rissie Potter is here, and you will remember her when she leaves.


	11. See It Through

Happy Labor Day, my fellow Americans! And Happy Monday to everyone else! We're meeting Esme and Alice today, as well as viewing part of the memories Rissie was left! Whose memories are they, and what story do they tell Rissie? I'm warning you right now, Rissie's deaf accent may be a bit difficult to understand, but please remember that she just barely lost her hearing completely and has to learn to talk without it for now. Please let me know what you think! By the way, thanks again, dream lighting, for reviewing! To everyone else, read, enjoy, and review! Thanks!

-Owlix

**Chapter Ten: ****See It Through**

The next day, Dr. Cullen came in during breakfast to talk to me, like he always did. This time, however, he was accompanied by someone other than the nurse who brought me my food.

She was about half-a-head shorter than him with caramel-coloured hair and golden eyes that were just as warm as his. She was already smiling when she came into the room, but when she saw me, her smile became warmer and kinder and more ... motherly. It was like I was a member of her family that she hadn't seen for a long time, and it reminded me of pictures of my mother when she was smiling at me. Thoughts of my mother almost made me emotional, but I didn't want to look like a basket case in front of this lovely woman.

"_Pleased to meet you, Rissie,_" she said, signing hesitantly but clearly. She'd obviously been practicing for this moment. "_I'm Esme Cullen, Carlisle's wife._"

"... It's n-nice to beet you, too," I said out loud, trying to make her feel more comfortable since she wasn't fluent in sign language. I was still awkward talking out loud since I couldn't hear myself; I had a hard time modulating volume and tone, and I was sure that certain sounds didn't come out quite right. To their credit, Dr. Cullen and Esme didn't mention it at all.

"D-Dr. Cuwen ... 'as dold me ab-bout you. I can r-rread lips," I added, seeing her try to come up with the proper sign.

"Oh, good!" Esme said, coming over to take my hands in hers. They were ice cold and I almost jerked away, but I remembered Remus, my beloved werewolf godfather who was nothing more than a victim of circumstance and had tried to make the best of his situation. These people were doing the exact same thing, and I had to be polite and respect their differences as I would Remus's.

"It's so lovely to finally meet you," Esme was saying. "The others are very excited to see you, especially Alice. She thinks it will be nice to finally have another girl around."

"D-Deya not w-wowied ... I-I'll blab?" I asked.

Esme reached up to place her hand against my cheek and smiled at me reassuringly.

"Rosalie is worried about that," Esme admitted, "but we're trying to tell her that you won't hurt us."

"Of cour' not!" I said, a bit angry that they were still scared I would betray them. "My m-mudder's a w-witch, my fadder's a w-wizar'! My brudder's a wizar'! I c-can keep deir secre', so I can keep your!"

Esme's smile widened, and much to my surprise, she leaned forward and kissed my forehead.

"Thank you so much, darling!" she said, everything about her showing warmth and love. "I'll be sure to tell her that."

The rest of Esme's visit was full of that same warmth and love. I have to say, I was very sad to see her go. She gave me a hug before she left, filling me to the brim with warmth that I hadn't felt since Mrs. Weasley hugged me last. I actually had to hold on extra long to make sure I had my emotions under control; otherwise, I would've turned into a weepy little girl. She gave me another kiss on the forehead and called me darling again, saying she'd see me soon.

The next day was Alice's Day. She stayed by Dr. Cullen's side at first, but when I held out my hand for her to shake, she danced forward with a big grin on her face to wrap me in a VERY friendly hug.

"_You smell so pretty!_" she said, signing perfectly but very quickly. "_Not like 'food' pretty, but like ... flowery perfume 'pretty'! __And, oh my gosh, you are absolutely beautiful! __That blush, that smile, those eyes, that HAIR! __Oh wow, I could have SO much fun with that!_"

"Umm ... _Thank you?_" I said, trying to remember everything she'd signed to me. I looked her over as I tried to think of something to say. Her dark hair would probably be chin-length if she left it down, but it was perfectly straightened and curved slightly away from her face. Her golden eyes twinkled merrily as she grinned widely at me. She wore clothes that were probably very fashionable: a feathery-looking shirt-dress over dark leggings with a long-sleeved cardigan and silver ballet flats. I wasn't a fan of the cardigan, but I loved the rest of her outfit.

"_Your dress is gorgeous!_" I said, sensing that she'd like that. "_Where'd you get it?_"

Turns out I was right. Alice's golden eyes lit up like little twin suns and her grin almost split her face in two as her hands started signing a hundred words a minute, LITERALLY! I tried to keep up, but fortunately Dr. Cullen managed to get Alice to slow down. We spent the entire visit talking about the wardrobe Alice wanted to buy for me. I wanted to wear more subdued, earthy colours like green and brown, but Alice was insisting on putting something gaudy into my wardrobe somewhere. I would just smile and shake my head, telling her that "gaudy" just wasn't me. I wanted to look nice, but I didn't want to be in the fashion spotlight if I didn't have to be.

Alice and I had a few awkward moments, though. She would fade out of the conversation for a moment and then start talking about something completely different. She would also talk about things that she wanted to happen as if they were already going to happen. If I didn't know better, I'd say Alice was a Seer or something.

For example, she asked me if I'd seen the memories yet, completely out of the blue. When I floundered and told her that I hadn't, she gave me this unusually serious look and signed,

"_You need to see them before Edward gets here tomorrow. __If you don't, things will get messy and confusing._"

"_In what way?_" I asked, feeling more than a little apprehensive.

"_You won't trust us_," Alice signed, closing her eyes as if she was concentrating on a memory. "_You keep talking about Death Eaters and dark magic ... 'necromancy' is one word that stands out. __You get very upset with us, yelling and crying ... you leave after a while without telling anyone ... and you get hurt badly ... something with fur and claws ..._"

I stared at Alice in slight confusion before getting a small idea.

"_When's the next full moon?_" I asked.

Dr. Cullen frowned before checking a calendar on the wall.

"_Fifteen __days from now,_" he said.

I felt my face drain of blood. The way Alice was talking, I would run away in a couple weeks and get attacked by a werewolf if I didn't see those memories tonight! As much as I loved my godfather, I didn't want to become a werewolf anytime soon. I had a hard enough time in my world as a Squib – becoming a werewolf on top of that would be social suicide!

"_Should I see them now?_" I asked.

Alice and Dr. Cullen nodded.

"_After Alice leaves, I'll come back and we'll view them together,_" Dr. Cullen said.

He looked at Alice, as if to ask if that was OK, and after staring into space for a moment, she nodded.

"She won't run away," she said out loud, "but she will be upset. Be prepared for that."

"Should Jasper be here?" Dr. Cullen asked.

Alice stared off into space again before shaking her head.

"She won't like him keeping her calm," she said. "She needs to let out her emotions, and what she sees will help her do that."

With that in mind, I wasn't looking forward to that evening. It seemed that no matter what, I would be breaking down again tonight, and that was the one thing I hated doing most.

Later that night, Dr. Cullen made sure that no one would disturb us as we viewed the memories. I had the Pensieve on a bedside table, Dr. Cullen keeping me upright as we stood beside it.

"_You know how to do this?_" Dr. Cullen asked.

I nodded.

"_My brother told me how_," I said before taking hold of the vial. I carefully pulled out the stopper and poured the vaporous memories into the Pensieve. They swirled and danced in a lazy circle, shimmering in many hypnotizing shades of silver. I couldn't keep from mouthing out the word "beautiful" as I stared into it.

"_Now we place our heads in,_" I said. "_The memories will pull us in, and we have to decide when we're done._"

I saw Dr. Cullen nod just before I turned back to the Pensieve. Taking a deep breath, I leaned forward and dived into the memories.

I found myself in a park, full of sunshine and trees and flowers. A moment later, Dr. Cullen appeared beside me, looking very astonished at what he was seeing. I looked around for the owner of the memories, knowing he'd be close.

I found him in the form of a young boy, probably nine or ten years old, hiding behind a bush. He was very skinny with overlong black hair that needed many good washes. His outfit was so horribly mismatched that it was obvious he was a magical child trying to look more Muggle: dirty, holey jeans that hit him about mid-shin, a shabby army-green greatcoat that most likely belonged to his father, and a patched smock-like shirt that was probably a hand-me-down from his mother. The poor kid was sallow and stringy, just like Harry had been before he'd gotten his Hogwarts letter; maybe he'd been kept in a closet, just like Harry and I had been. Something else about him seemed very familiar, especially his hooked nose, but I couldn't place it properly.

His thin face was full of unabashed greed as he stared into the distance at something. I followed his gaze and found two girls playing on the swing-set. One of the girls was tall and slender like an aspen tree, with mousy brown hair and dark brown eyes. The other was shorter and skinnier like a sapling, with brilliant red hair and dark green eyes, like mine!

I gasped and took a few steps closer, watching in delight as my mother swung higher and higher on the swings until she let go at the height of the arc ... and FLEW! I gaped in astonishment and delight, watching Lily Evans flying through the air like a trapeze artist and landing too lightly on the ground about twenty feet from me.

After applauding for a moment, I looked over at who must have been Aunt Petunia as she rushed over, looking frightened, concerned, and relieved.

"Mummy said you weren't allowed, Lily!" I saw her say. Aunt Petunia always enunciated very clearly, and it seemed that she had learned it as a child.

Mum just giggled and picked a flower, beckoning over to Aunt Petunia. I stepped closer as Aunt Petunia did the same, looking very apprehensive and excited, like she was about to break a very big rule but wanting to do it anyway.

I grinned when I saw Mum make the flower petals open and close, like an anemone or an oyster.

My grin fell when Aunt Petunia looked frightened and backed away, obviously shrieking in fear. Mum's grin fell away as well as she threw the flower away.

"It's not right!" Aunt Petunia said, though there was a look of longing on her face as she stared at the fallen flower. "How do you do it?" she asked.

She flinched and shrieked as something happened behind me. I turned and saw that the boy had come out from behind the bush, no doubt frightening Aunt Petunia with his presence. His cheeks turned a dull pink as he stared at Mum, no doubt regretting his hastiness.

"I know what you are," I saw him say.

I looked over at Mum as she asked what he meant.

"You're ... you're a witch," the boy mumbled. I had to focus a lot to figure out what he was saying. He looked a bit terrified to be saying that, and I understood why. If he was wrong, he could get in a lot of trouble with the Ministry. I wondered what Mum's reaction was and turned just in time to see her say,

"_That's_ not a very nice thing to say to somebody!"

I laughed so hard at that, remembering that I'd said something similar when Hagrid had told me the news.

I looked up and stopped laughing when I saw that Mum was marching towards Aunt Petunia, making the boy flap in a ridiculously bat-like way after her. I followed closely after the boy so I could continue to read his lips.

"You are!" he said. "You are a witch! I've been watching you for a while! But there's nothing wrong with that! My mum's one, and I'm a wizard!"

I looked over at Mum and Aunt Petunia and saw that Aunt Petunia had a very familiar expression on her face as she talked. She was trying to hurt the boy by acting all high-and-mighty, just as she had with me and Harry many times before.

"They live down Spinner's End by the river," she was saying to Mum. Obviously, Spinner's End was the more unsavoury part of the town where they lived. "Why have you been spying on us?" she asked the boy.

The boy mumbled a little, saying only the word "spying" clearly. I guess he's been saying he wasn't spying. He gained his courage, lifted his chin, and spat at Aunt Petunia,

"Wouldn't spy on you, anyway. You're a Muggle!"

I turned just in time to see Aunt Petunia say, "Come on, we're leaving," to Mum, who obeyed immediately, glaring at the boy. The bitter disappointment in the boy's face was so poignant that it almost left the pair of us in tears. He'd obviously planned this moment for a long time, and it had gone all wrong.

The memory changed, leaving Dr. Cullen and me in a thicket of trees. I found the boy and Mum together in the middle, talking as they sat cross-legged on the ground. The boy had removed his coat, making him look much less like a boy playing dress-up, but he still wore the same outfit as he had before. Either this had taken place on the same day, or that outfit was his only one.

I couldn't really understand all of what they were saying, but from what I could read, the boy was telling Mum about the world she'd been born into. Mum twirled a twig in her hand, no doubt imagining it to be a magic wand. They kept talking, and at one point, they got on a subject that made the boy's face go hard with a small crease between his eyes. But then Mum said something that made a small smile appear on his face, making him look much younger. As he kept talking, he got rather passionate about what he was talking about, but then he broke off, turning bright red and shredding leaves he found on the ground.

Then the two of them leaped up, staring at someone behind me. I turned and saw Aunt Petunia being caught spying on the two kids. She said something, probably hurtful, and a branch over her head cracked and fell onto her shoulder. She staggered backwards, holding her now-visibly dislocated shoulder and ran away in tears.

I turned back and saw Mum yell at the boy, who had obviously tried to hurt Aunt Petunia for whatever she'd said. Mum stormed out of the thicket after her sister, leaving the boy looking miserable and confused.

The scene changed again, revealing the Hogwarts Express. I gave the familiar train a smile and watched as Aunt Petunia finally revealed her jealousy over Mum's magic, leaving Mum in tears. The scene moved to a compartment, where the boy joined Mum, obviously on better terms with her, but not good enough for her to smile at him when he came over. She was still crying and the boy was trying to make her feel better, but that only attracted the attention of the rowdy pair of boys in the compartment.

I looked over at them and jumped when I saw a boy that looked very much like my brother: slight, black mess of hair, and confident hazel eyes. With a jolt, I recognized him as my father, James Potter, who seemed to carry himself much like my cousin Dudley had when we were much younger: arrogant, above everyone else around him, like we should all bow down and let him walk all over us if it pleased him. Despite the fact that he was my father, I didn't like the look of him at all. I was glad that he'd found a way to get out of that funk enough to make Mum fall in love with him.

Dad sat opposite a boy who was lounging carelessly in his seat, a boy with perfectly coiffed dark brown hair and depressed gray-blue eyes. It wasn't until he grinned that I recognized him as Harry's late godfather, Sirius Black! He seemed to have the same arrogance that Dad had, but Sirius seemed to be saying "take it or leave it" with his while Dad's arrogance was more in your face. Sirius said something that made Dad roar with laughter but also made Mum flush with anger and storm out of the compartment, dragging the boy by the hand behind her.

I saw the scene change three times: to the Sorting Ceremony, to a scene where Mum and the boy were in a small argument a few years later, and to a scene outside the castle, probably after exams at the end of the year. I watched in horror as Dad and Sirius attacked the boy for no reason, ending up hoisting the boy up in the air by his ankles. That's when Mum came in, whipping her wand out as she prepared to defend her friend. Despite the fact that the boy was upside down, I saw clearly the exact moment of humiliation and anger when he called my Muggleborn mother the most unforgivable name: "_Mudblood_".

As I tried to wrap my head around what had just happened, the scene changed again. The boy was apparently trying to apologize, but Mum was anything but interested. It was clear that either he'd apologized for similar things before and this was just the straw that broke the camel's back or that he'd waited too long to apologize and left Mum to stew in her anger. Mum ended up tearing the boy a new one and leaving him heartbroken in front of the Fat Lady's portrait.

The years blurred forward until Dr. Cullen and I came to a hilltop, where a now-recognizable Professor Snape stood, looking frightened out of his mind as he looked around at the wind-swept trees.

The moment I saw him, Professor Dumbledore's murderer and one of Harry's greatest tormenters, I wondered if I should just abandon the memories for good now that I knew that they were all his, but I remembered his letter's plea for understanding. It took everything in me, but I eventually decided to stay and see this whole thing through.


	12. I Saw Him

Hey guys! I'm back! Sorry if I left you in a major cliffhanger moment - I really hate those! Special thanks to dream lighting, MewRose, Erika Malfoy-Castelan, Stephanied473, and lovexisxamazing86 for their fantastic reviews! Please read, enjoy and review this newest chapter! Thanks!

-Owlix

**Chapter Eleven: ****I Saw Him**

Still trapped in what I now knew were Professor Snape's memories, I watched with a now-harder heart as Snape begged Professor Dumbledore to spare Mum from Vol ... the Dark Lord's murderous attentions. At first, he was only interested in saving Mum, having already asked the Dark Lord to spare her as well. But when Professor Dumbledore expressed his disgust in Snape's selfishness, he changed his tune and asked that the entire family be spared, offering in return anything Professor Dumbledore required of him.

The look of pure desperation on Professor Snape's face when he said "anything" was something I'd never seen on any person before. I started wondering why he was so desperate to save Mum. They obviously hadn't been friends for years, judging by how Mum had left him, but he still wanted to keep her safe.

Could it be ...?

Was he ... in _love_ ... with _my mother_?!

It would make sense as to how he'd reacted to me when we'd met back in fourth year. I'd noticed him staring at me for a while before he'd plucked up the courage to talk to me. When I said certain phrases, he would get a look on his face similar to that of someone who had seen a ghost.

The rest of the night, he'd treated me with a protectiveness and ... dare I say it? ... a gentleness that you would expect him to treat a family member or very close friend with. I remembered him standing by my side throughout young Barty Crouch's testimony, allowing me to hold onto him when I heard things that horrified me almost to the point of fainting. He could've easily barked at me and forced me to let him go, but instead he'd reached across himself to place his free hand on mine, as if to reassure me, and allowed me to hide my face in his robes so Crouch couldn't see me crying.

When the scene changed again, I had my answer. We were in a nursery, with two babies in the crib. One had dark hair and the other had red hair – Harry and me! We were listening to a woman as she whispered to us. More than anything, I ached to know what Mum had whispered to us that night, her final words of love for her only children.

The next thing I knew, the room was full of green light and Mum was falling to the ground in front of the crib, her arms flung out towards us in a final attempt to protect us.

"MUMMY, NOOO!" I shrieked, racing to get to her only to have Dr. Cullen wrap me in his stone-hard arms, trapping me at his side. I tried to fight him and get to Mum, but he wouldn't let me go. I was forced to continue to watch through my tears as Snape came into the room later and saw Mum's lifeless body.

The look on his face made it seem as though his entire world had been ripped from him. His legs refused to support him as his eyes drank in the horror before him. He tumbled to the ground at her side, staring at her for a long moment, calling to her through tears of his own. Finally, he reached out to her, flinching as his fingers touched her icy cheeks. He then wrapped her in his arms and let out a cry that I could only see, one that I felt in the very core of my being as I saw my beloved mother's corpse being rocked back and forth in the arms of the childhood friend who had always loved her as he had no one else.

Dr. Cullen and I fell to the ground as I collapsed into tears. Harry had told me since third year what had happened that night, but seeing it happen right before my eyes was more painful than anything I'd ever experienced. If it wasn't for Dr. Cullen's steadying embrace, I would have fallen apart right then and there.

The next couple minutes were all a blur as I wept almost hysterically. I felt myself rise and land on my back, lying on something firm and familiar. There was a slight pinch on my arm that I didn't like, causing me to fight against the hand holding me down. Then, all of a sudden, I felt so heavy, so tired that I couldn't help but stop. I stopped fighting, stopped crying, stopped keeping my eyes open ...

I woke up the next morning achy and a bit woozy. I looked around at the hospital room and recognized it as mine. I looked down at the IV stuck in my forearm and groaned when I realized what had happened. Dr. Cullen took matters into his hands and pulled us out of the memories before they were done.

I frowned at what the memories had shown me – Professor Snape had known my mum when they were children and had been friends with her for a long time, falling in love with her somewhere along the way. He'd even been willing to switch sides and join Dumbledore if it meant that she would be safe. But Dumbledore had failed; Mum had been killed, and the Dark Lord had been destroyed in the process. Professor Snape had the chance to leave and start over somewhere else, but he didn't. Maybe he'd stayed because he had nowhere to go or because he knew he'd be hunted down if he left. It couldn't be because of Harry and me; he _hated_ Harry, and he probably wouldn't have liked me either since I looked so much like Mum. We were reminders that Mum loved someone else, that she'd left him all alone. Who would want to see that sort of reminder every day for seven years?

I pursed my lips a little as I went over the memories again and remembered Alice's warning from the day before. There was nothing I'd seen that would make me scream necromancy and run away, so maybe that memory was still in there somewhere. I looked around and saw that neither Dr. Cullen nor any of the nurses were there. No one to help me view the memories, but no one to stop me from viewing them myself either.

I carefully got out of the hospital bed and stood shakily on my own two feet. The sedative Dr. Cullen had stuck me with hadn't worn off just yet, but I still had enough strength and balance to get to the Pensieve, which was still on the table where Dr. Cullen and I had left it. I clutched the IV bag-stand with my left hand and the table with my right, wondering if this was really the best idea. But Edward would be coming soon, and Dr. Cullen would no doubt be coming with him so I couldn't ask for his help. And there was no way I could ask the Muggle nurses to help me out either! Alice had been explicit that I needed to view the memories before Edward got there, so now was the only time I could.

Making my decision, I took a quick breath and plunged into the memories once again.

I found myself in a place I never thought I'd see again – Hogwarts! I looked around and saw that it was during the Third Triwizard Tournament Task, before Harry had shown up with Cedric's body. I looked around and saw Professor Snape standing right beside me, talking to someone else. I looked past him and nearly fell over when I saw who it was:

DR. CARLISLE CULLEN!

He and Professor Snape were chatting away, Dr. Cullen wearing his charming smile and Professor Snape looking oddly relaxed. I couldn't catch what they were talking about, mostly because I was too shocked to wrap my brain around the fact that Dr. Cullen had been at Hogwarts!

I was snapped out of my shock by a flash of bluish-white light. I looked over and saw Harry and Cedric fall to the ground, Cedric's dead eyes staring up at the world as Harry wept brokenly on top of him. I hurried over to them both, despite knowing I couldn't do anything to help, and fell to my knees by Cedric's left shoulder. I watched everyone hurry over to the boys and start asking him what had happened. I even saw myself hurry over to Harry and wrap him in my arms as he wept; that was really weird!

But then I looked back down at Cedric ... and froze.

How could this be possible?!

Why hadn't anyone seen this?!

Cedric's face was covered with tears, some of them belonging to Mr. Diggory but most of them ... coming from Cedric's own eyes!

The memory faded before I could blink and reassembled itself, showing Dr. Cullen examining the body. He paused for a moment over Cedric's heart before stepping over to Professors Snape and Dumbledore.

"The boy is alive," I saw Carlisle say, "but barely. If left like this for much longer, he will die. He simply lacks the energy to keep himself going much longer."

"How could this be possible?" Professor Snape asked. "Potter said he saw the boy fall to the Killing Curse."

"Which was cast by a man who had very little magical power to begin with," Dr. Cullen said. "Not to mention, he was wielding another man's wand. That alone would be enough to botch any spell, let alone the Killing Curse."

"What can be done?" Professor Dumbledore asked, a strange look in his eyes.

"To save the boy?" Dr. Cullen asked before sighing. "I can change him, but it would be a very difficult existence for him, watching his family and friends age and die around him. Short of using Dark magic, it would be our only option."

Professor Dumbledore stared at Dr. Cullen for a long time before nodding. Dr. Cullen nodded back and went over to Cedric's body. He whispered something in Cedric's ear before biting him right under that very ear. I gasped as I watched Cedric writhe and gasp in pain, Dr. Cullen staring down at him with a predatory look in his eyes.

But then, something behind me drew my gaze.

Professor Dumbledore had leaned over and held a piece of parchment where Professor Snape could read it. Professor Snape looked shocked and slightly horrified before Professor Dumbledore handed another piece of parchment to him. I hurried over to Professor Snape to read the note over his shoulder.

'If it is known that Cedric Diggory survived the Dark Lord, Tom would stop at nothing to find the boy and kill him. To save his life, Cedric Diggory must die!'

Before I could wonder what that was all about, Professor Snape had whipped out his wand and pointed it at Dr. Cullen, muttering one word.

"Obliviate."

I stared at Professor Snape in shock as he murmured another word I'd learned from Harry, one that would add new memories to replace the ones he'd removed from Dr. Cullen's mind.

This was an outrage!

Cedric had been alive this whole time, and no one had thought to tell Harry about it?!

What was the matter with Dumbledore?

Yeah, the Dark Lord could have gone on a hunt for Cedric, but Dumbledore could have kept Cedric safe without removing memories! And why did Professor Snape have to do it? Surely Dumbledore was more experienced and adept at modifying memories!

I felt my heart race and my breathing start to speed up as I got more confused and angry at the thoughts and ideas racing through my mind. I could barely focus as I saw Professor Snape walk out with Dumbledore, his face set in an unbreakable mask.

I was surprised when the memory faded altogether, forcing me back into the present. I stumbled backwards as I tried to work past the disorientation, running right into someone as I did so. All of a sudden, my legs couldn't support me any longer. I crumbled to the ground as my hyperventilation got worse. I barely registered a second set of cold, rock-hard hands grabbing my legs as Dr. Cullen took hold of my arms and placed me in the bed.

A few moments later, I felt Dr. Cullen's hand on my forehead and saw him looking down at me in concern. I focused on him with everything I had as he placed my hand on his chest and began to breathe slowly and deeply. Somehow I realized he wanted me to do the same; I obeyed the realization and forced myself to breathe slowly. As I did so, the dizziness went away and I could focus on him as he spoke to me.

"What did you see?" he asked.

I still took deep breaths as I looked around the room, wanting to see who had helped Dr. Cullen. My heart stopped when I saw a familiar face looking back at me, and then my pulse started speeding more rapidly than before as I pointed at the boy's face. A face I'd seen crying while he was supposed to be dead. A face that had always been so kind when it had looked at me before.

"H-Hhim," I croaked. "I s-saw 'im! C-Ccedwic ... D-Diggowy!"


	13. A Bloody Miracle

Hello everybody! Hope you enjoyed that little cliffhanger I left you yesterday! Special thanks to Stephanied473 and mizzsims529 for their reviews! I'm sorry this is a lot shorter than the past few chapters, but it's a bit of a heavy chapter and I didn't want to show you too much. Please read, enjoy, and review! If anyone is confused about what has happened to Cedric/Edward, PLEASE message me and ask!

-Owlix

**Chapter Twelve: ****A Bloody Miracle**

Dr. Cullen and Cedric stared at me in confusion and concern as they processed my declaration. I kept staring at Cedric as I pointed at him, taking in how much he'd changed and yet not changed a bit. His hair was still that bronzy-brown mop and his face was generally the same kind, handsome face I'd known, but at the same time, his face was much harder, like it was carved out of stone than created by flesh, and his eyes were now golden instead of that greyish-greenish-hazel I remembered.

I was surprised when Cedric held up his hands and began to sign to me.

"_My name's not Cedric,_" he said. "_My name's Edward, Edward Cullen._"

I shook my head rapidly, making my red hair fly around my face like a fiery halo.

"_NO!_" I signed emphatically. "_Your name is Cedric Edward Diggory, and you have been dead to my world for more than two years! I saw your body! __I even went to your funeral!_"

Cedric looked absolutely lost, his golden eyes wide as he stared at me. He kept glancing over at Dr. Cullen, but apparently Dr. Cullen had no answers because Cedric would look back at me in confusion.

"_Your world?_" he asked.

I nodded and took a deep breath before making a confession of my own.

"_The Magical World. My mother was a witch, my father was a wizard, and my brother is a wizard. __My brother was actually the one that you died saving. __A monster of a wizard wanted to kill my brother and you were just in the way. __My brother said the monster told his lackey to 'kill the spare' – you, a young wizard who was truly one of the best Hogwarts had ever seen. __You were kind, fair, true, and very brave. __You never held a grudge against anyone because you believed the best of everyone. __You never said more than you needed to, and you always meant what you said. __I only met you a couple times, but my brother told me a lot about you. __I was the only one he would really talk to after you died._

"_You can look in that Pensieve if you don't believe me,_" I said, pointing to the Pensieve on the table when I saw that he didn't believe me. "_It will show your body being brought back to Hogwarts and your transformation._"

Cedric looked so horribly confused that I couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him. If he'd spent the last two years believing at his core that he was someone else, the truth would no doubt be scary to hear.

I looked behind me at Dr. Cullen, who looked very concerned and curious, like he was hearing something he didn't want to hear but needed to know if it was the truth. He gave Cedric a stern look before standing up and heading over to the Pensieve. He decisively stuck his head into the Pensieve, leaving us sitting there and watching him with his face in a bowl. If the situation wasn't so serious, I probably would have laughed a bit at how ridiculous he looked.

I glanced over at Cedric and saw that he looked really anxious. Feeling a bit bad for him, I reached over and placed my hand on one of his, which was waiting by my shin. When he looked up at me, I gave him a small smile and signed,

"_He won't drown. He'll be fine._"

He smiled a little in return but didn't seem reassured.

"_What's wrong?_" I asked.

Cedric looked between me and the Pensieve before looking back at me again.

"_What if it's all true?_" he asked. "_What if everything up to two years ago was all a lie?_"

"_Is there anything in your past that you want to be true?_" I asked.

I gasped as the most heartbreaking expression appeared on Cedric's face. I saw horror, shame, regret, nostalgia, and the most aching desire to be free. He looked like an angel who had dived straight to the deepest circle of Hell and clawed his way back to Earth, one that knew he would never regain entrance to Heaven but ached to keep trying to prove himself worthy.

"_There is ... so much in my past ... that I want to be a lie,_" he admitted. "_But ... if I was ... like you say I was ... why would someone make me think I was ..._"

"_What?_" I asked. "_Think you were what?_"

Cedric looked up at me and I could tell that if he could cry, he would be doing so right then.

"_A monster._"

Those two words broke my heart. Ignoring the IV stand, I lurched forward and took his hands in both of mine. He went unnaturally stiff in surprise, but he eventually relaxed as I began to stroke the back of his hands with my thumbs. He carefully wrapped his long fingers around mine as I did so, almost seeming afraid that he would break me if he held me too tightly.

I couldn't believe this! If Snape had placed horrible memories into Cedric's mind, he had a lot to answer for. Him and Dumbledore both! I don't think Snape would've done this to Cedric or Dr. Cullen if Dumbledore hadn't told him to. Though, what Dumbledore was thinking, messing around with someone's memories like that, was anyone's guess. Then again, Dumbledore didn't tell Snape to make Cedric think he was a monster; that was all Snape's doing. If the two of them were right there with us, I'd smack them both and yell their ears off!

I saw Cedric shake a little out of the corner of my eye, almost like he ... laughed? I looked up and saw that he was smiling and his eyes were sparkling with amusement.

"_What?_" I asked.

Cedric looked embarrassed, but when I smiled reassuringly at him, he signed,

"_I heard your thoughts. It's ... something I can do. __My 'gift'. __I've been able to do it ever since I was turned._"

I blinked in surprise before spelling out the word "Legilimency".

"_It's an obscure branch of magic,_" I said. "_My brother told me about it. If you master it, you can do anything to someone's mind: read it, control it, even unhinge it. __You can make someone see something you want them to see, or you can know when you're being lied to._"

"_I can do some of that,_" Cedric admitted. "_It's mainly that ... I can get into someone's mind and see what's in there, but I can't do anything with what I see or hear. Does that make sense?_"

I nodded just as Dr. Cullen yanked his face out of the Pensieve, looking absolutely horrified. Cedric hurried over to him and grasped Dr. Cullen's shoulders, staring very intently at him. He was most likely looking through Dr. Cullen's memories of what he'd just seen. That idea was confirmed almost immediately; Cedric looked like someone had smashed a hammer over his head as he staggered back into a chair, which he sat down in heavily.

"_What did you see?_" I asked once I'd gotten Dr. Cullen's attention.

"_Severus,_" Dr. Cullen said. "_He ... enchanted everyone in the family. Me, Ed ... Cedric, Esme, Alice, Jasper, Rosalie, and Emmett! __All on Dumbledore's orders, and all to protect Cedric from Tom Riddle! __Apparently, Dumbledore thought that Cedric would be hunted down when Tom found out he was alive. __Dumbledore wanted to keep Cedric alive somewhere else, where Tom would never find him, like a secret weapon of sorts._"

"_Cedric's not a weapon!_" I said strongly. "_That's what Dumbledore has never understood. He's played everyone on his side like chess pieces, when we're all human beings with lives and choices and opinions! __I thought he was bad with Harry, but this ... this is ... positively outrageous!_"

I inwardly chuckled a little at the idea of quoting Hermione Granger, but that is exactly what this was! Dumbledore had set Cedric aside, essentially placed him on a shelf and locked him away by giving him fake memories of a life that never existed, only to be used when he was needed, which might have been never! Cedric might have been a Plan B, in case Harry died before the Dark Lord could be defeated! Who knows, maybe he could have used Cedric to gain an army of vampires to defeat a man who many said was immortal as well!

I saw Cedric whip his head around to stare in horror at me and realized that he'd heard every thought I'd just had. My stomach dropped at the overwhelming fear on Cedric's face, suddenly wanting to reassure him that I would never let that happen to him.

"_Dumbledore's dead,_" I said with a hopefully reassuring look on my face. "_He can't make you do anything anymore! You don't have to fight this war if you don't want to._"

"_But if I don't help ..._" Cedric started, but I slammed my hand down on the hospital bed.

"NO!" I said, actually shouting in my frustration. "It'sth not your war! You can'd die again!"

The three of us fell into a tense silence after I said that. Dr. Cullen looked betrayed and confused, Cedric looked like he didn't know what to do, and I was fighting to not cry at how desperately frustrated I felt. I know Cedric would want to fight to protect his family and friends, but I couldn't let him go back. The entire Wizarding World thought he was dead and had thought so for more than two years. If he showed up at this very moment, there would be absolute chaos on both sides. Harry's side would be ecstatic and confused and wanting to know what had happened, and the Dark Lord's side would want nothing more to hunt Cedric down and kill him as well as every other vampire to make sure they couldn't bring another one of his enemies back from the dead. Cedric would never be left alone, always being stalked by one side or the other, and his new family would be targeted as well, which was something no one would want to happen!

As I stared at the two vampires before me, I knew that the road before us was very uncertain. We had absolutely no idea where we should go from here, and that frightened all three of us. If we did somehow manage to make it to the end of this war alive, it would be a bloody miracle!


End file.
